Stalemate
by ornamental-reciprocity
Summary: They couldn't explain it. Again and again they'd pit themselves against each other and each time they'd come up even. But in a battle for a country, there's no room left for a stalemate. A victor must be declared.
1. Bind

It was stupidity, of the highest order, Zelda realized. There were other words for it, too. Hubris. Arrogance. Desperation. Fear. But nothing summed it up quite like stupidity. Watching the hole open up before her, all she could think was that it had been a bad idea. A bad idea from the start. And yet, at the same time, she was absolutely convinced that this was the only option. It was this or destruction. Of course, she reflected, feeling her consciousness slip away into uncharted territory, they may be one and the same.

The first thing she saw upon waking, if waking is really the proper term for what happened, was gray. It wasn't quite black, but neither could it be considered light. It was more of a fog, deep, dark, and utterly impenetrable. For a few moments, she tried to hold her arms out, to steady herself in space, only to realize her mistake. She had no arms. She had no body to speak of. She simply was, just a consciousness without a home. For a moment, she was almost grateful that she could see nothing but gray. She imagined trying to find a center in this place. The very thought was mystifying.

She took a few moments to get her bearing, remaining surprisingly calm for a lost spirit. But she had trained for this moment; almost all her life had been spent steeling herself against shocks like this. She had braced herself for monsters and hellfire. In retrospect, empty, gray space was rather a relief.

At last, she decided that she must call out to him. Somehow. And pray that he heard. She knew that she had to speak to him now, before he escaped. That was their best chance, quite possibly their only chance.

"Are you there?" she called out, with her mind, as she had no mouth. There was no response, leaving her to suspect that merely thinking wasn't enough. Her mind strayed momentarily, towards the shields which she had put up around herself, to protect her thoughts. They were many and they were strong. Perhaps, she wondered, even she could not send a thought out through them. Maybe if she lowered them, only for a minute, just to get his attention…

No! she reminded herself. That was dangerous. What she knew of this man, and that was precious little, told her that she could not risk it, not even the slightest breach of her defenses. But what then, she asked herself, could she do to find him?

Fortunately for her, he seemed to sense her presence before she could locate his. Out of the stillness, in the empty grey, there came a sudden wisp of color. And more followed. Within moments, the figure of a man had collected itself from the shards. It was curious to see him, not only because he was an unusual looking man, but because of how she saw. Without eyes, she saw from every angle at once. She could make out a thousand different images of the same person, and yet she could not synthesize them into a whole. Instead, she could only recognize colors and blurs as she tried to understand the image.

But just as quickly, the figure dissolved and the grey space returned. Zelda chided herself for not having taken action. She had been so close. Of course, she knew, her actions were fairly limited when she had no body.

Suddenly, she felt something grab hold of her. She wasn't sure how it happened, but she had the curious sense of being compressed and made whole in the process. She opened her eyes again, shocked to realize that she did, in fact, have eyes. She had a body.

"How?" she asked, vaguely, barely expecting an answer.

"I've had far too long to practice," he answered drily.

"I don't understand," she answered, blinking quickly. It was a strange feeling, to be looking through eyes which were her own and yet foreign. Her vision was swimming slightly and the figure in front of her appeared to wobble constantly.

"Of course you don't. You send me here and you don't even know how it works, do you?"

"Who are you?" she whispered, although she felt certain that she knew the answer already.

He simply laughed bitterly. "What do you want?" he asked, "Why did you come here?" His grip on her newly made arms was tightening and she felt a sensation not too unlike pain. This new body was disconcerting, and she hoped to be back in her regular one before too long.

"If you are who I think you are, then I came to make a deal."

His face darkened. "And if you are who I think you are, then I want nothing more than to snap your puny neck."

She closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply. "I expected that."

He raised his fist in apparent anger, ready to strike, but the blow never came. She opened her eyes, confused. She could see his fist, rigidly defined and clutched in anger, but the rest of him, including the arm that had held her, were melting away. He struggled for a moment, before his whole body disappeared.

So did hers.

Once again, she was launched freely into space, confused and disoriented, without a home.

"Now look what you made me do," she heard his voice say, although she could not see him anywhere.

"Where are you?" she called out as best she could.

"I'm everywhere, and so are you."

"What's going on?"

Although she could not see his face, she could sense his frustration. It radiated all around her, like a kind of heat. "You really are an idiot," he told her. "I thought you might have made a mistake coming here, an isolated error. But no, you are just a moron."

"What's going on?" she repeated.

He sighed. "This sword in which you sealed me (thanks for that, by the way) is emptiness. Everything you see, feel, touch, the bodies you inhabit, that all comes from the consciousness locked in here."

"I don't understand."

"If anything exists here, it does so because I imagine it. And everything requires constant attention. One body alone requires incredible exertion. Coordinating all the limbs, the colors, the clothes. Calling up your body and mine at the same time is borderline impossible. Even I couldn't keep that up for long. It's not something I'd expect an idiot like you to comprehend."

"So," Zelda asked, "Everything in here is a product of your mind."

"That's right."

"Bit hard to snap my neck then."

He paused and Zelda could feel his frustration turn again to hate. "True enough, princess. I won't lie to you. I've created replicas of you many times. I've murdered each and every one. It's been fun, but not entirely so. I would rather prefer to kill the real you, not some phony body of my own imagination. But you make do with what you have."

Zelda paused, knowing that this was her chance. "So, wouldn't it be a lot more satisfying to snap my neck in a place where you didn't have to concentrate just to keep it in existence?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm offering you a chance to get out of here. Not a great one, but a chance. Are you willing?"

"You're asking me to break out of here to murder you? You never struck me as the suicidal type. Then again, since you are here…" he trailed off.

"I'm asking you to make a deal."

There was another pause. "Will there be any murder at all involved in this?"

"I don't know yet," Zelda answered honestly, wondering if he was serious or if that was his idea of a joke.

"What are the conditions?"

If she could have, Zelda would have smiled. She knew that she had him. As much as he hated her, he would do anything to escape there. Of course, escape entailed revenge. On her. But she would come to that later. If she was alive that long, she added, dismally.

"The conditions?" he reminded her angrily and she snapped back to attention.

"It's simple, really. There's a situation which, near as we can tell, only you can sort out. We break the seal, you fix our problem. Simple as that."

"And what, exactly, is this problem you need sorting?"

Zelda paused, unsure how to continue. "That's the trouble. We don't really know. But it's bad."

"Then why come to me? Surely your little cadre of followers could fix whatever bug is troubling your great kingdom," he answered, his voice laden with pent up rage.

"It's not so much the problem itself that we need you for. It's the location."

"You want directions?"

"Sort of."

"You came all the way here, to ask for directions to some God forsaken place. Ever heard of a map, princess?"

She had to restrain herself for a moment before answering, her own frustration boiling into the conversation. Suddenly, she was extremely glad that she could not see him and did not have limbs, or else she feared that she would have hit him. How, she wondered, can one powerless man make her so angry so fast? "We know where it is. We just don't know how to get there."

"Well, generally speaking, I find walking towards something helps that problem."

Finally she exploded. "So help me, if you don't just be quiet and listen-" she caught herself. She was on a time limit, after all, she reminded herself. "Look, this isn't just a place where we can just walk. I wouldn't come here if we could just walk there. I'm not that much of an idiot."

"You had me fooled."

"It's in the sky."

"The sky?" he asked, momentarily surprised.

"Yes," she answered, bluntly.

"Tell me, girl, would this place in the sky have anything to do with my old home?"

"Yes," she answered, just as curtly.

"And you want me to take you and your little friends into my home and let you traipse about freely through the last place in the country that's still mine?"

"More or less."

"And you expect me to go along with this?"

Zelda waited a few moments for his rage to cool. "If you want to get out of here, you will."

For a few seconds, there was silence in the gray air. "If you break this seal, what's to keep me from simply breaking off my end of the bargain?"

Zelda mentally cringed. She was hoping he wouldn't ask that. "Nothing really. Just a hunch?"

"A hunch?"

"You don't want destruction. Not complete destruction, anyhow. If you enjoyed huge tracts of nothingness, you'd stay here. You don't want chaos, you want control. Absolute control. That's your weakness. And, it seems to me, if you can't stand the idea of a few friends of mine muddying up your carpets, you're not going to like what's going on up there."

There was no immediate response, and she knew that he was taking what she said seriously. "Maybe," he admitted, "But why would I take you along?"

"You will need help."

"Help? From you?" he answered derisively.

"Yes," she answered shortly, once more.

"What about after all that's sorted out? What guarantee do I have that you won't simply seal me back up in here?"

Now it was Zelda's turn to scoff. "Do you really think we could? And here I thought I was talking to a man with some notion of power."

"Don't test me, girl," he warned. "It seems to me like you're throwing yourselves at my mercy, and I can't help but wonder why. What is your secret? You know something I don't."

"I don't know anything," she told him, "I've laid all my cards on the table. We're already at someone's mercy, and it doesn't look like that's going to change. I'd rather it be yours, someone I can almost understand, than that thing."

"You know I hate you, don't you?" he asked softly.

"I do."

"You know that's not going to change?"

"I do."

"You know you can't expect mercy from me?" She didn't answer, but he knew the truth. "Then I agree to your terms. Release me."

Zelda paused, awkwardly. "Yes," she began slowly, "about that…"

"What?" he asked, the anger rising in his voice once more.

"I won't actually be doing the releasing. You should know as well as I that there is no way to break the seal from the inside. We'll be breaking it from the outside. My friend is there, prepared to lift the Four Sword from the pedestal, thereby freeing the both of us."

"So send him the message. Get him here."

"I can't do that. You know how this works. Nothing can get through the seal. Nothing goes in, nothing goes out."

"If that's the case," he began, suspicion edging into his voice. "Then how did you come to be here?"

"The only way I know how. I had myself sealed in here as well. The same enchantments that bind you, bind me."

There was another moment of silence, as he contemplated this. Finally, he spoke, "You know, any hope I had that you might be slightly less of an idiot than I anticipated have just been shattered. You sealed yourself here. Voluntarily. You know a bond like this is never truly broken, right? Every time I break free from here, I still hear the humming of this blasted sword. Calling me back. And so will you. Well, this certainly was unexpected."

Zelda didn't answer him. There was no way to answer him. The second that she had agreed to this task, she knew that she was messing with magic she didn't fully understand. It was entirely possible that this would plague her for the rest of her life. But she had only his word for it. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad.

After a few moments, he interrupted her contemplation. "So, you can't send a message to your friend. How exactly were you intending to break this seal?"

"My friend will break it three days after I first entered here."

"And how will he know whether or not I've agreed to your deal?"

"He won't. He was always going to break the seal. He was always going to free you. Except now you understand why, and you know why you need us. I trust you."

He didn't answer, but was rather stunned into silence. That was quite a gamble for the girl to take, but she seemed so confident about it, like she had known all along what he would do. How was that possible? There was very little information out there on him, let alone psychological profiles. He was a mystery, and she unraveled it a bit too quickly for his tastes. Perhaps she was rather clever. But she was still an idiot. A shrewd idiot. Nothing more dangerous, he reflected, as he silently waited for the seal to break. He couldn't help but wonder what her next move would be. Because she had a plan, and he knew it.

* * *

><p>Hey all. So after I wrote Present (way back when), I got a few suggestions to continue. But I didn't have anything else to say. Or a plot. Which, I find, is generally rather helpful when writing. So, I came up with this, and thought that I should write this as something unrelated but sort of related. Kind of. Anyway, I know that it's a short intro, but that's life. Always butting in at the most inconvenient time.<p>

Yellow should be updated any day now. I've got most of the chapter finished, there's just this one conversation that's weirdly stilted. Oh well, if I can't fix it, I'll just post the crappy version. :-)

-Ornamental Reciprocity


	2. Novelty

With a rush of color, their world broke apart. Zelda couldn't explain it. One second she was waiting, silently, awkwardly. Neither she nor her new compatriot had spoken since he had agreed to the deal. The waiting had been hard. A part of her was tempted to speak, if only to fill the silence and assuage her own fear. But she could still sense his hate boiling in the silence, so she wisely kept silent herself. No use provoking him. Not now.

They waited for what must have been the remainder of the three days. It was hard to tell time in that place, with no sun. At times, it seemed to her that time was crawling by like a slug, and other times was hurtling on, faster and faster.

Then it happened.

Out of nowhere, a rift formed in the gray veil surrounding them. Light shown through. Sunlight. Honest, pure sunlight. There was a rush as the nothingness filled up with the brightness. She half wished she could close her eyes, to escape the power. But she could not. Her vision filled with a complete whiteness.

And then she blinked. She blinked again and again, accommodating herself once more to the feel of her own eyelids. She took an experimental breath. There came an easy flow of air to her lungs. She hadn't realized how much she had missed breathing. Slowly she reached up and felt her own face, her hair. She was her again, and it was glorious. Until then, she had never realized what a gift it was to have a body, to have a place, even if it was only a couple of organs and a lump of flesh, that she could call her own. To have a center. She would have laughed, except that her brain chose that moment to stir back into action. She remembered, suddenly, that the colors around her were not simply images, floating about. They were people. Important people. And they were waiting for her.

There were at least two dozen guards. They were only the rank-and-file members, but they held up an impressive façade. They were neatly arranged in four perfectly parallel rows of six. Their armor was meticulously shined, with her family's crest, an eagle with its wings fully spread, emblazoned in a deep, bronze color. They all stood with their backs straight and the masks on their helmets down. In full regalia, they looked like toy soldiers, identical and dutiful. None of them made any noise or even moved.

Beside them stood a collection of six men and women in dark brown robes. These were the mages. They were specially trained, each in their own field, with skills to rival even the sages. This was the point. The sages would never have agreed to such a foolhardy scheme as the one Zelda had planned. Nor could they be bought out, for any price. But mages, they were another matter. The six that Zelda had collected were well known for their prowess and for their greed. It was they who had successfully placed Zelda in the sword. They only stuck around because they were waiting to get paid. They had no interest in the proceedings.

Finally, way off to her left, leaning gently against a tree, was her savior himself. Link was staring down at the sword in his hands, looking as though he weren't entirely sure how it had gotten there. She wasn't surprised. He had mastered the look of a frightened deer long ago. It was nice to see him, though, even if he was too stunned to acknowledge her. He looked so normal, with his familiar blond hair peaking out beneath his ridiculous looking hat. It felt natural. It was nice to see the guards, too. Honestly, she was thrilled even to see the cloaked mages, who she had met mere days before. All of the sudden, everything was familiar again. She recognized the green grass of the clearing, the open, blue sky. She could have laughed with joy.

Could have laughed. But didn't. Because of the man standing directly behind her. She didn't turn around to see him, but she could just barely feel him, standing mere inches behind her. She could hear his breathing as he looked around, assessing the situation.

The mages and the guards were staring at the pair of them, rather aghast that the plan had come to fruition. The entire clearing was silent, waiting for her reaction. Suddenly, it struck Zelda that she didn't know what to say. This seemed like a moment for great insight. Instead, all she managed was a dim smile and a slight nod, which did little to assuage the tense mood of the onlookers. She breathed softly, trying to gather her courage and wits.

Fortunately, she did not have to speak first, because he interrupted her.

"It has been a while," was all he said, but the onlookers all tensed at the words. It was strange, Zelda thought, to hear his voice out loud. It was somehow colder, smoother than their communication had been before.

Zelda's voice caught in her throat. At that moment, the captain of the guards, a rather large man known both his cynical attitude and his bushy mustache that made him vaguely resemble a walrus. "So," he asked, "Are you him?"

"No, I'm the great Nayru. What do you think?"

"You're Vaati?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes."

The captain looked at Zelda inquisitively. "Is he really?"

Vaati interrupted. "How many people do you keep locked up in swords anyhow? Who else do you think I would be?"

The captain stepped back as his tongue stumbled over involuntary apologies, which came pouring out of his mouth unwillingly.

"So, then," Vaati continued, "What exactly is going on?"

At last, Zelda worked up the nerve to turn around. She whirled around quickly to confront the man, facing him with sudden anger. She drew back involuntarily. He was, somehow, different, than she expected in the real world. There were few records of his existence, let alone portraits, so her perceptions of what an evil man should look like had perhaps swayed her expectations. He was only a few inches taller than her, but he managed to make himself intimidating nonetheless. He allowed his light hair to deliberately flop in front of his face, in some show of casual bravado.

She had to admit she was surprised. She had expected worse. Some sort of demon. But even so, she wasn't comforted.

Finally, choking back her nerves, Zelda answered, "I would suggest that you look up."

He did. Although she didn't look at the sky herself, she could tell by the way his fists clenched that he saw what she knew was up there. It was hard to explain, exactly, what had happened. It seemed as though a portion of the sky had simply disappeared, into blackness, like some force had sucked all of the light away. It was a large, black sphere, with little tendrils of darkness, snaking out to envelop the surrounding light. At last count, it had been hovering over the kingdom for almost three weeks now. Zelda remembered that it had started out as a small dot, barely visible. In three weeks it had grown to dwarf the sky, and seemed to be growing faster. There wasn't time to think of a better solution. Another few days, who knew what could happen.

"What, exactly, is that?" he asked, quietly, but Zelda could hear the anger seeping back into his voice.

"We don't know," she admitted.

"And that's why you need me." He didn't wait for a response. Instead, he simply leaned back against the nearest wall, thinking. "So what's your plan?"

He didn't seem one for chit-chat, which Zelda had to admire. If nothing else, at least he recognized that time was of the essence.

"We need to get up there."

"I figured that. What then?"

Zelda sputtered a little, and glanced sideways at Link for help. He stared blankly back at her.

"Let me guess," the man continued. "You don't know what's up there, so you don't have a plan. You intend to just show up at that thing's doorstep, and pray for divine inspiration. Is that it?"

"We think the mages-" Zelda began, but was abruptly cut off.

"You're taking them?" he asked incredulously. "What makes you think I'll transport your entire entourage up there? I'll take you. And I'll take the boy, if he agrees to leave that blasted sword behind. That's it."  
>"You agreed to move myself and a few of my friends on this investigation."<p>

He scoffed and looked at the mages, assessing them. He seemed unimpressed. Zelda didn't blame him. They were a flamboyant bunch, wearing the finest robes in the flashiest colors, a sure sign of vanity and overconfidence, usually without the skill to back it up. Of course, she reflected, gazing over at the former prisoner, he was one to talk. Although his outfit had been all but shredded in his last fight (and she supposed that it was difficult to find a tailor in the middle of an expanse of nothingness), she could tell that it had once been a very fine outfit itself. She even thought she could detect fluttering bits of fabric that was once a cape.

"You think these people are your friends?"

"I meant it figuratively."

"Well they can just come along figuratively too. Send their spirits and best wishes with us. Because I'm not taking them."

"You-you have to. It was our agreement," she sputtered desperately.

"Our agreement?" he asked, looking at her as though she were some kind of insect. "You said yourself you have no power to hold me to this agreement. I'm in it only as long as it's advantageous to me. And these guys are absolutely no help."

"How can you be so sure?"

He raised his eyebrows at her doubtfully. Suddenly, Zelda heard the sounds of many collisions. She whipped around to see the mages sprawled on the ground, a heap of tangled robes and dirt. Beside them, a few of the guards had blanched, and the rest were actively forcing down panic. Zelda couldn't breathe. She hadn't even seen him move. She hadn't even felt a thing. Suddenly, she wondered what exactly she had just gotten herself into.

"You were saying?" he asked, smugly.

Zelda was about to answer, when suddenly her vision swam. Sounds became gurgled, as though she were listening underwater. And there was a feeling. It wasn't painful, exactly, but strange, as though her body and mind had become separate. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. She thought she might be screaming but she couldn't be sure.

Then it was done. Her vision snapped back into focus. She could clearly make out each individual sliver of green grass beneath her face. Grass? she though momentarily, looking around. She had collapsed to her knees. Her dress had ridden up her legs and was splayed across her calves. Her hair hung down around her head like a golden cage, while her gloved hands had grasped the earth with all their might. Raising her head, she brought herself back to her feet, cautiously testing her legs to see if they would hold up.

"Are you alright?"one of the braver guards ventured to ask, and she nodded slowly, wondering what had just happened. Vaati seemed unconcerned.

"Well, now that that's over, might I suggest we relocate?" he asked, and Zelda looked at him suspiciously, still shaken by the unexplained ordeal.

"Why?"

"There are supplies to get, plans to make, and I'd rather not be making them here. Unpleasant memories, you see." He glared at her, and she glared back. However, she held no power over him, and was ultimately forced to relent.

"Fine," she acquiesced. "Castletown's just about an hour from here if we walk quickly. Would that be to your liking?" She accompanied her words with more than a twinge of sarcasm. In fact, she was rather tempted to make a profane gesture in his general direction, but restrained herself for the sake of the mages, who were still gathering themselves up from the ground, and the guards, who didn't look like they could take another shock.

"Perfect," he told her, not the least bit ruffled by her anger. She nodded and proceeded to move away, when he interrupted. "Forgetting something?"

She creased her brow, but finally gave in. She turned to the mages and the guards, nodding quickly. "You are dismissed. You mages may return to the castle for payment. The rest of you go back to your duties." Slowly, hesitantly, the crowds began to shuffle from the scene, as though they expected an attack from behind the second they turned their back. However, once they had left Zelda's line of sight, she could hear the patter of feet running away as fast as they could. There was a moment of silence as only Zelda, Link, and Vaati were left in the clearing.

"Satisfied?" she finally asked, and he nodded tersely.

"To business then," he stated simply. "Lead the way."

He gestured towards her with a flick of the hand, seemingly to tell her to move. She turned about woodenly and began walking. He followed her closely, uncomfortably so, until she found the need to speed up just to put a little distance between them. Link followed behind at a relaxed pace, unwilling to insert himself in a fight that was not entirely his own.

Within a few moments, they were ensconced in the thick woods that surrounded the sword's sanctuary. In spite of herself, Zelda began to feel a little at ease. The air in the woods was heavy, and made her feel drowsy just to breathe it. The trees were tall and shielded her from the sun. Beneath the heavy canopy, it was impossible to see the black mass in the sky. Once she had put sufficient distance between herself and Vaati, the walk was almost relaxing. After the first few minutes, the man had chosen to walk somewhere roughly in the middle between herself and Link. He seemed more comfortable there, and Zelda did not object. Space was a precious commodity and she relished in her privacy.

For just over half the journey, they traveled peacefully, each engrossed in his or her own considerations, and safely separated by a boundary of at least a hundred feet. It was very nearly pleasant.

Or, at least, it would have been. Until she heard his voice, unexpectedly close.

"Does he have to take that thing with him?" She almost leapt into the air when he spoke, from mere inches behind her. How she hadn't noticed his approach baffled her.

"Wha-what thing?" she asked, trying to recover her breath.

"The sword! What else?"

"Yes," she insisted. "Like we'd give that up."

He walked up beside her and resumed his casual stroll. "Well, it won't do you much good, anyway. I doubt your little hero has ever learned to wield one properly. He doesn't look like much, not compared to his counterparts in the past."

Zelda shot him a warning glare, but he continued talking as though he hadn't seen it. "Of course, you're not much compared to your counterparts either. You're not even close. That woman… you know, if that whatever-it-is in the sky had appeared during her reign, she would never have tried anything this stupid. Of course, she would have had a plan. And she would have pulled it off, too. You on the other hand couldn't even last the whole conversation without practically fainting." He sighed dramatically. "Those were the good old days."

Zelda's glare intensified. The harsh look splayed across her face seemed almost silly on her delicate features. She hadn't much practice at looking intimidating. He laughed at her, internally, although outwardly he maintained his bored expression. No use getting her too angry yet. He had to test her first, see where this was going.

"As I recall," she began slowly, "those 'good old days' got you locked up in a piece of metal for half a millennia."

He shrugged. "Still, you couldn't beat that entertainment."

Zelda's lips pursed and became thinner by the second. Finally, at the edge of her restraint she asked, "Is there something else you wanted?"

"Is a little conversation too much to ask?"

"What happened to 'I want to wring you neck'?"

"Oh, I still do, and don't you forget it, but for now, I'd be satisfied just to pass the time."

"We get to Castletown in twenty minutes. You can't wait till then?" she asked, picking up her pace to get away from him. He matched her pace, easily, and continued talking.

"Well, if you won't oblige me, I could always try to talk to the boy. Maybe see if I could wrest that sword from him. It might be possible, you know. Everyone has a price. Not every boy can be the hero you expect from him, hmm?"

"Good luck," she told him. "He doesn't talk much. I doubt he haggles."

"Is that so? Well, you would know. The princess and the hero after all. They always come together, like a matching set of porcelain dolls."

Zelda inhaled deeply for a moment, remembering the exact phrase that she had practiced to answer his questions. He was, she suspected, probing for a weakness. And she had rehearsed responses to cover her tracks. "Not exactly. I don't even know him that well. Like I said, he doesn't talk much. Not quite the basis for a life-long friendship."

"You don't say," he answered, running the princess' response through his mind. She waited a few moments for him to process her information. When she thought that he had had enough time to think, but not too much to break through her defenses, she decided that she had to get rid of him, quickly, before he figured anything out. Well, she figured, the direct way is usually the best.

"Vaati?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"Go away," she told him frankly, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Temper," he warned.

"It's about to get worse if you don't leave me alone." He shrugged non-commitally and slowed his walk, allowing the girl to quickly put some distance between them. It looked, near as Zelda could tell from the periphery of her vision, that he was waiting for Link to catch up with him. No matter. He wouldn't get anything out of him. That kid was harder to crack than any nut. After a few attempts, he would get bored.

Everything was on track, she thought. So far, so good.

* * *

><p>And there's chapter two done. Man, exposition is difficult. Sorry, I would have written more, but I managed to hurt my shoulder and make typing difficult for a time.<p>

The sad part is, I hurt my shoulder while taking an English test. Don't ask me how.

-Ornamental Reciprocity


	3. Hanging

That Castletown was large by Hylian standards did not say much. Their nation was all but famous for its sparse, barely populated villages. Zelda had heard of town consisting of as few as ten families, way on the outskirts, near the borders. But Castletown, as the capital of the nation, was grander than that, although not by much.

The city was laid out on a simple grid pattern. There were three streets running north to south and three running east to west, as well as a few, smaller alleyways. In the very center was a large plaza, where, at any time of the day, a few dozen merchants might be seen running about, hawking wears to unwilling buyers. Other than that, there was not much of note in the city proper. There were few landmarks left over from the ancient days, and most of the city consisted of wooden, two story houses and shops, with a few larger, grander brick buildings distributed in between. Surrounding this small square of civilization, perhaps only a few miles across, was a large stream of water on all sides. This improvised moat had been diverted from a natural stream, both for military purposes, and to keep the population of the city in check.

To the north of the city was the castle itself, positioned securely behind white, stone walls. The architecture of the castle was a mix of the old, preserved from ancient days, and the new. About two decades before, a massive effort had been undertaken to replace some of the older building materials with newer ones, since decorative, marble outcroppings had taken to wearing thin and dropping off the walls. After a particularly menacing gargoyle had narrowly missed the king's head on a walk through the palace grounds, it had been decided that enough was enough. It was a safety hazard.

The reconstruction had taken a few years and, while successfully eliminating the threat of falling gargoyles, had left the castle in an unusual state. The fresh marble on some of the walls shown bright white against the old, weathered, gray stone, creating an oddly spotted effect. In addition, the modern architects had attempted to veer away from the ancient style columns, arches, and towers, in favor of a more modern, simplistic approach, which preferred functional, square pieces. As a result, the entire building had a look about it as though it were stuck between the eras. Vaati scoffed at the effect from a distance, quietly enough that he thought no one would hear.

Zelda did and she glared at him again. She had been glaring at him a lot in the past hour, even when he wasn't doing anything particularly annoying. She had realized quickly that he had an astounding capacity to twist her words around whenever she spoke, so she had taken to silent hatred.

She wasn't particularly good at glaring, all things considered. With her eyes wide and screwed up, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pressed thinly together, she looked rather like an irate cat, or possibly some variety of frog. Someone ought to tell her that she looks ridiculous, Vaati considered, but thought better of it. Not the time. Not the time.

Now that they had arrived in Castletown, he assumed that it would be straight to the castle, to business. But, instead, the girl turned right at the first road she came to, and continued down a strange path, until he had to wonder exactly where she was going. When, finally, she stopped in front of a rather dingy looking tavern, he had to admit he was surprised.

"Need a drink?" he asked, looking at her skeptically.

"There are fewer ears here than there are at the palace," she told him simply, and he shrugged, supposing it to be true. If there was one thing he knew for sure about kings, it was that they were paranoid. There was no way of knowing what passages may have been built into the wall, what secret vents open into which rooms. In short, there was no way of knowing exactly who was listening.

This tavern, on the other hand, had no such problem. Being buried, as it was in one of the smaller alleyways beneath larger buildings, the room had barely seen direct sunlight in years. The owner, a pock-marked, old man, politely called "touched", who spent the vast majority of his time polishing a small fragment of what was once a wall mirror and laughing to himself, had taken advantage of the darkness as a disguise for the dust which covered everything and some of the filth which still hung about in the corners. In short, it was not a pleasant place, so none of the three travelers were remotely surprised that it was empty, apart from the old man and his mirror fragment.

Zelda immediately sat down at a table, the one closest to the door. It was just the slightest bit wobbly, as was her chair. This always annoyed her. It gave her the impression that she was going into the whole ordeal lopsided. Vaati sat down across from her and looked expectantly at Link to follow. He didn't, instead, making his way over to the old man. They both watched as he leaned closer to the old man and spoke something. Although they couldn't hear him, they assumed that he had ordered drinks, because the old man soon disappeared and came back with two steaming cups of tea. Silently, Link took a small sugar dish on the table, which was mercifully full, and began to spoon it into one of the mugs. He put in four spoonfuls, the way Zelda liked it, and returned to the table. Carefully, he handed the mug with the sugar to Zelda and kept the other mug for himself.

Zelda smiled, just a little. Truth be told, she hated tea. It was bitter stuff. But she enjoyed its comforting warmth, when she was too stressed out. The only way she would actually drink it was when it was more sugar than tea. And she always felt a bit better after she drank it.

Vaati looked down at the two glasses, apparently annoyed that he himself had been given nothing. He shook his head and muttered, "I guess I've been gone longer than I thought."

"Hmm?" Zelda asked, feeling the warm mug between her hands.

"Before, when I was last here, tea had to be imported. It was expensive. You'd never find it in a common bar, let alone a place like this. You drink tea a lot?"

She wondered, vaguely, if he was trying to distract her by talking about drinks. She decided to play along, for the minute, and see where he was going with it. "Not really," she told him. "I only like it with sugar."

He looked down at her cup, which had sugar crystals clinging all to the edge. "So I see."

There was a quiet moment as Zelda waited to see if he had something else to say, some reason for the small-talk. When he made no move to speak again, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe it was just idle chatter or some form of stalling. At last she coughed, "Well, to business then."

"Indeed." He nodded quickly and looked her intently in the eyes. "Listen, I want to know everything you can tell me about whatever that thing up there is, before we leave, understand?"

"Yes. Unfortunately, I can't tell you much. It appeared about three weeks ago, very small, back then. It's grown at an alarming rate. Any magic we've tried to cast on the thing has just fizzled away. We haven't even been able to tell its nature."

"And you think going up there will fix that problem."

"It's our only choice. We've been using telescopes to spy on it and, if it hasn't grown too much since this morning, than there should be a small portion of your old palace left untouched, just on the border of that cloud. If we can reach that dock, so to speak, we have a good chance of being able to penetrate the cloud, and maybe learn more about it."

"If we don't die, that is."

"If we don't die."

He paused for a moment, and finally nodded his assent. "I agree. We'll leave tonight, then."

Zelda nodded. "Now then, about supplies-"

"You leave that to me," he interrupted. "I know more about my home than anyone else alive. I'll figure out what we need."

"I'm not leaving you alone to wander about the city," Zelda objected, but he shook his head.

"I know what I'm doing. I've got my priorities straight, in this case. Besides," he added, gesturing to the remains of his shredded clothing, "I have a few personal matters to take care of."

Ordinarily, Zelda would have objected. She would have followed him out the door, if she had to. But, as it happened, she needed to get rid of him for a few moments, so, with fake hesitation, she agreed.

He turned to leave, without another word, before she called out, "Wait."

"What now?"

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a few rupees. "You'll need these," she told him, and he looked at her strangely. "You were planning on buying the supplies, weren't you?"

He shrugged. "If you insist." He reached down and plucked the rupees from her hand, looking down at the shining gems suspiciously. "This isn't nearly enough to outfit you, me, and the boy," he told her.

"Link will not be joining us," she told him, in a flat voice.

Momentary shock registered on his face before he was able to suppress it again. "Really? May I ask why?"

"I told you, I don't know him that well. He's the descendant of the hero and heir to the Four Swords by blood-line and blood-line only. I can't ask this of him."

"Is that so? So he's a coward, huh?" He asked, looking Link up and down once more.

"I didn't say that," Zelda insisted. "I just said that it wouldn't be fair to ask him to put his life in danger. Again."

"Yet you have no objection to doing that to me. Kind, dear princess, very kind of you."

She breathed in and out a few times, trying to avoid taking his bait. It was so easy, with this man, to get caught up in the stupidest arguments and she would always come out looking like the fool. After she had regained her control, Zelda informed him, calmly, "You will need to purchase supplies for you and myself, unless you can think of anyone else you would permit to join us." It killed her to use the word 'permit' with him. It reminded her that he held the power in this situation. At least, for the most part. At least for now. For now, she had to go along with what he had to say. That was her only option.

"No one leaps to mind," he told her, counting the rupees one more time. "In that case, I will leave you here, for now. Wait here," he warned, "I don't want to see you or him following me, or anything like that. I will meet you back here just before sunset. We will leave then."

She nodded, but he didn't wait around for her answer. He simply turned and threw open the door on his way out. Zelda waited a moment before she turned to Link who, as always, stood silent beside her. Slowly, she reached into her pocket and removed a small scrap of paper and a charcoal stick. She thought it safer to write her message rather than speak it out loud, just in case he could somehow still be listening. She didn't doubt that it was in his power.

You know your mission? she scratched onto the little piece of paper, which she kept cupped in her hand. Finally, she leaned over, close to link, and pulled her fingers away, so that he and only he could read the words.

He scanned the page and nodded quickly, looking around for any unwanted observers. Zelda scratched another message into the paper.

Then I wish you a safe journey, my friend. He smiled, just a little, and took the paper from her hand. In one swift motion, he dropped it onto a tiny candle burning on a nearby shelf, watching as the flame removed every last trace of their conversation. They sat silently for the next few hours, waiting for his return.

* * *

><p>When he did come back, it was just as she might have expected him to. He simply breezed back into the bar, like a man returning home from a long trip away. There was no trepidation in his action, no fear, just utter, infuriating confidence. His clothes had been either repaired or replaced, Zelda wasn't sure which, but his return to fine fabrics had only served to increase his swagger. Behind him waved a long rectangle of fabric. So it was a cape, Zelda realized, secretly amused by him flamboyance, just as she was annoyed by it. He returned carrying two leather satchels hung over his left arm. They sagged with weight, and Zelda thought they both looked heavy, but he didn't seem to be bothered by them.<p>

"Ah, so you did wait for me. Good," he told her, slamming the door shut with his foot behind him.

"Did you expect I would try to escape?"

"I expected you would try something. Your ancestor would have. Probably would have succeeded, too. She was good at what she did." He looked her over once. "Shame," he said, not specifying further what he meant.

"Did you find everything?" Zelda asked, determined to see what was in the satchels before they left.

He dropped the bags on the table, producing a heavy, clunking sound. One he dropped closer to himself and the other next to her. She could only assume that he meant for it to be hers. "I did." He tore open the tops so that she could inspect the contents of each bag. For the most part, everything seemed fairly straight forward. There was comfortably compact food, good for traveling, and a canteen of water, which she doubted would last very long. But, she assumed, that he would know better than she if there was water to be found somewhere in the sky. In addition, there was another set of clothes, one much better suited for the sort of activities they would be doing than the one she was currently wearing. Absentmindedly, she fingered the thick skirts, heavy, starched collar, and tiny silver buttons on her dress. In retrospect, she hadn't known why ceremony had seemed so important at their meaning or why, even now, she was loath to consider replacing her dress, even for practical purposes.

Fortunately, he didn't stress the matter, and allowed her to continue looking through the bag. There was nothing else too surprising, with the exception of a rather large knife. It was too large to be a dagger, yet too small to be a variety of sword. But it was sharp, and she took it gladly. It would be good to have some weapon, she decided, even if she wasn't entirely sure how to wield it.

She could see him smile a little as she fingered the thin blade. The handle was inlaid with silver swirling lines with no particular pattern. "Do you like it?" He asked, sounding as though he were about to laugh. She didn't see what was so amusing about her holding a knife. She was not a warrior, but she had always assumed holding a weapon would make a person more intimidating, not less.

"It's fine," she told him and moved to put it away.

"You don't have to hold it like it's about to shatter," he told her, and she didn't respond until the knife was safely packed away again, out of his sight.

"Is that everything?"

"Not quite." He reached into his own bag and pulled out a little, fancy bundle wrapped in white paper and tied with string. "I brought you a gift."

Cautiously, she untied the twine and pulled apart the paper. Inside, she was surprised to find a little piece of chocolate cake, with a small cherry on top.

"Cake?" she asked, looking at it suspiciously.

He nodded, and watched as she laid it on the table. "Thanks," she began slowly, "but I'm not really a fan of sweet things."

"Unless its tea, of course," he told her, and she looked up, confused.

"What?"

"Unless its tea. You enjoy your tea sweet."

"True," she admitted, backing away from him unconsciously.

"But nothing else?"

"Not really."

"Interesting."

"What?"

"You have very specific tastes, do you know that?"

"Don't we all?"

"I suppose so," he shrugged. "Well, if you don't like the cake, give it to the boy. Call it his reward for all the trouble he's been through."

Zelda shoved the cake back towards him. "Eat it yourself," she said, angrily.

The man shrugged again, and plucked the cherry off the top, eating it slowly. "Been a while since I've eaten anything," he muttered, chewing the fruit. "I forgot how good it felt."

Zelda watched, angrily, as he finished the little red fruit and cast the stem into the fire. "Are we done? Can we go now?" she insisted.

He nodded, and she moved to grab her pack. She picked it up- it was even heavier than she had expected- and started walking to the door, when he stopped her. "One last thing."

"What now?" she asked, with a hint of a groan invading her voice.

"Forgive me for being the least bit suspicious here, but I can't help but wonder what exactly it is you're planning?" His voice sounded darker, suddenly.

"Planning?" Zelda sputtered, "I told you-"

"You told me a lot of things, but how can I be sure they're true? For example, if you are anything like your ancestor, at all, then you more than likely have some of the same powers."

"Such as?"

"Such as telepathy. I didn't realize until too late that the whole time she was with me, she was sending messages all over the kingdom. If I take you up there, I need a guarantee that you won't be contacting anybody."

"You want a promise?"

He laughed. "What good is your promise? I want you to let me place a block on part of your mind."

Zelda froze. She already had many blocks around her mind, in the form of shields, most of which were self-imposed. As an infant, court mages had begun to wrap her mind in a cocoon of their power, to protect her thoughts and her abilities. Since she was a child she had been practicing with these shields herself. By now, she had so many layers around her mind that she maintained most of them unthinkingly, without even realizing they were there. But to let him, of all people, place a shield around her mind, a shield that was not meant to keep other people out, but to keep herself in- that was unthinkable.

"I-I…" she began, trying to find words.

"You have thirty seconds, or the deal's off," he told her, frankly. So that was his plan, to corner her at the last possible second with an ultimatum she couldn't escape. She didn't have a choice, she reasoned. Not unless she was willing to give up everything.

She looked up at him as he stood, perfectly still, awaiting her response. How could he be so damn calm? Finally, she exclaimed, "Yes. Alright. Do it."

He smirked. "Just relax," he told her, mocking her. "It won't hurt. I promise."

Gently, she let her defenses fall just a little, just enough to give him a hold, however small, in her mind. Suddenly, she felt a change. It wasn't pain. It was more like blindness. Although she could still see and hear and feel and taste, and do everything she could do before, she couldn't help but feel that one of her senses had been cut off. It was disorienting, the feeling of missing something that was never quite there to begin with.

"There," he told her. "Now we're ready."

* * *

><p>And one more chapter is finished. I had some spare time tonight, which was lucky because I didn't expect that this chapter would be done for a while. Oh well, I guess I was just lucky.<p>

As always, thank you to everyone who has reviewed. And please R&R if you have the time.

-ornamental_reciprocity


	4. Touched Piece

Zelda leaned against the wall, still reeling from the block on her mind. Breathing heavily, she nodded that she had heard him. It was time to leave. After taking a few more moments to steady herself, she stood up and turned to Link. He was waiting, silent and unconcerned as always.

"Thank you for your services," she told him. He nodded, simply. Everything about his posture gave off the message of 'no strings attached'. She suppressed a smile. He was good. "You may return to the Castle for payment."

He nodded and turned away, his face blank. Within moments, he had disappeared around the corner. She closed her eyes for a moment, resisting the urge to call him back, to scream for him to help her. He had been her constant, admittedly silent, companion. But he had his job, and she had hers. If all went according to plan, then they would meet again.

"You had to bribe him?" Vaati asked, skeptically.

"I was asking him to risk his life. He should be rewarded," she answered, only half paying attention.

"If you say so." He watched her as she watched the spot where her friend had disappeared. "He's not coming back, you know."

"What?" she asked, snapping out of her stupor.

"You sent him away. You paid him. He's not returning."

"I know that," she answered, indignantly.

"Then stop watching the road. He's gone." He was mocking her, again. Damn it, she thought, why couldn't she master the blank expression that Link had? Her face always gave her away.

"We should leave now," she said, neutrally, trying to regain control of the situation. As much control as she could, anyhow.

"Right."

She waited for him to make a move, or to explain how they would be traveling. He didn't react. Of course, she thought, he wants me to ask. He loved lording information over her. It was his one, true pastime. Oh well, she figured, there would be a lot more of it to come. Her pride could handle a few dings, if it meant getting rid of that black thing in the sky.

"Alright," she said at last, "I'll ask. How are we getting there?"

He smiled to himself, pleased to have won. For now, she had to remind herself. It's only for now. All the same, her hands clenched at his smirk. "There are many ways."

"Well, pick one."

"There are teleportation options, of course, you should be familiar with those, but if the remaining outcroppings are as small as you say, then-"

"Just pick one!"

He looked surprised at her outburst, but recovered smoothly.

"We fly then."

"Alright."

As uncomfortable as she was with the idea of flying, somehow being suspended in midair at the mercy of the winds seemed preferable to this conversation. Even dealing with that thing in the sky seemed preferable to this conversation.

"I trust you've never flown before."

"Can't say that I have," she told him, anger still apparent in her voice.

"Well then, there are two rules. One, don't scream. Two, keep the contents of your stomach inside at all times. I'll handle the rest."

Zelda paused for a moment. The loss of her magic had disoriented her, and her stomach was twisting in knots. She wondered if she'd be able to follow the second condition. Though, on second thought, it might be amusing to see what would happen if she vomited on his new outfit. It wouldn't endear her to him much, but it certainly would cheer her up.

After a moment's fantasizing, she let the matter drop. No, that would only make things worse, in the long run. She nodded her consent to his terms.

"Stand still," he told her, "and try to stay as straight as possible. It's easier that way."

She tensed her muscles, letting her body go rigid. She held her shoulders back and her head high, waiting for him to make a move.

He did, but it was a small one. With barely a gesture he was airborne. Flying seemed as easy as thought to him. Of course, it probably was. He had had thousands of years to master it. He hovered just a few inches above the ground, in front of her, as if to prove that he could.

"You ready?" he asked, and she nodded tersely once more. In a second, she felt the ground disappear from under her feet. In a moment of panic, she wheeled her arms about, trying to find some purchase. Of course, there was none. She realized afterwards that she had done herself a disservice. By throwing her arms around, she had just thrown off the only balance she had. In a moment, she had flopped backwards, and found herself lying horizontally in the air, about two feet off the ground. For a moment, she thought about struggling to right herself, until she remembered where she was. She highly doubted that there was anything she could do, now, to fix the situation. Not without his help.

She flicked her eyes up to where he hovered, watching. His face was uncharacteristically blank, although it did seem redder than usual, and she wondered if that was his way of biting back laughter. Good, she thought, he's trying to restrain himself a little. That meant that he considered her a threat, or else a valuable resource. So maybe he was more scared than he let on of the black cloud. Or maybe he knew the limits of her temper. Either way, she was glad for the silence.

"Care to help?" she asked.

He made a tiny gesture, barely noticeable, and she felt a sudden pressure from behind her. In a moment, she was righted, but she made sure to follow his advice this time, and stand still.

"Not bad," he commented, "At least you catch on quick. That's good for something. Now then, you said the outcropping should be on the border of the cloud. Where?"

"To the west. We'll have to look for it when we get up there."

He nodded and the pair began to lift higher. She had to admit that she was amazed at his control. Their movements were smooth, even as they hit higher altitudes, where the winds around them were raging. After a time, she found that she was even coming to understand the mechanics of flying, at least a little.

Staying upright was her biggest challenge. Apparently, it was a lot like balancing a stick on your palm. To keep the stick balanced straight up in the air, you had to keep moving your hand around to keep to center of gravity in position. On the other hand, balancing the stick horizontally required almost no thought. As a result, she found herself almost constantly slipping to one side or another. She found most of the time, she could fix the problem by shifting her weight just slightly. But there were times when she lost control.

Somehow, though, he could always fix it, without a word from either of them. She marveled at how well he understood what was happening, even when he couldn't see her. She didn't like to admit it, but he was skilled. That would only make things harder, in the end.

When they finally neared the cloud, they both took in a breath, subconsciously. The cloud was even more impressive up close. Not that it could really be called a cloud. It was more fluid, like darkness embodied. There was no word for it, really. It was more like a hole, in the universe, as though something was simply torn out of space and replaced with blackness.

They had to circle around the cloud, from a distance, for a while, before they could spot the outcroppings they were looking for. The ledge was smaller than she expected. Dear goddesses, she bemoaned silently, it's growing too fast.

They dropped down. The impact was hard. Her knees crumpled beneath her as she hit the stone and she fell, sprawled out on the floor. Biting back a groan she shook her head to clear the ringing noise in her ears. She as fairly sure he had done that on purpose, but now wasn't the time to debate it.

The ledge was made of a light brown stone, with a slight shine to it. Just next to one of her hands, Zelda could see a tiny carving of a flower. It was smaller than the palm of her hand, and yet it was beyond intricate. She could make out every last detail, each carved with glorious precision. She would have thought it was the work of a master, if she hadn't looked to her left. There were at least two dozen of these carvings, lining the floor like buttons on a jacket, each as spectacular as the last. And this was just one tiny outcropping. There was a whole palace of this.

She looked to her right, to see if the train of flowers continued, but saw instead a black wall: the cloud. It was mere inches from where she lay, towering over her. Somehow, being so close to the wall as much worse than seeing it from the ground. From the ground, the cloud had looked like an ink stain on a wet paper, slowly spreading it's tendrils out across the sky. But from up close, she could see that that was not the case at all. The whole wall looked as though it were boiling. The ebony surface rippled and spun. Little arms would reach out into the surrounding air and whip back, as though burned by the sunlight. This movement, this unearthly activity, was much more fearsome than the cloud itself. It gave Zelda the impression that the cloud was not magic at all, but, somehow, alive.

Subconsciously, she backed away from the wall, until she felt a hand on her back. Whipping around, she saw Vaati standing right next to her, looking rather annoyed. He gestured, with a nod of his head, towards her feet. She looked down.

Just past her feet, there was nothing but air. Another step, and she would have fallen. She blinked, unsure how she had walked so far, when she hadn't realized she had been moving at all. She cleared her throat, embarrassed and a little unnerved. "Thank you," she said, tersely.

"You think I would allow you to die just when I need you?"

"I suppose not." She watched as he slowly approached the wall. Gently, he reached out, holding his hand just an inch from the roiling surface. The wall didn't seem to respond. Softly, he let loose the tiniest bit of magic he could, barely a wisp. The tiny trail of air penetrated the wall, causing the blackness to fall back as though it were repelled. The little magic travelled forward, forcing the darkness back, until it was almost surrounded by the wall. Zelda could just barely see it from where she stood. And then the wall fell in on the magic, collapsing around it, like birds clambering for the same bit of bread. The wall rolled and tossed as it grabbed at the little spark of magic, devouring it.

Zelda could see the look of concentration on his face as he sent another bit of magic into the wall. This time, she could see that it was a shimmering sphere, roughly the size of her fist. It pushed into the wall, making a small dent, before it was roughly repelled. He tried again, slamming the sphere into the cloud with more force, only to watch it fly backwards once more, so fast that it whipped past Zelda's head. He tried one last time, throwing the sphere at the cloud. This time, the force was enough to shatter the sphere. The wall shook a little and repaired the little damage that had been done to it.

"Interesting," he muttered.

"What happened?" Zelda asked, as he turned around to look at her.

"The cloud doesn't respond to our presence. It doesn't recognize magical people or objects by their mere presence. Yet it responded to my spells. The offensive spell, the one directed at it, it absorbed. But the defensive spell, the shield, it repelled."

"So?"

"So, its power comes from absorbing magic directed at it. Small wonder it chose my home as its base. This place has any number of spells meant to fight off intruders. It would only be too easy for this cloud to harness that power."

"So, what you're saying is that your palace is fueling this cloud?"

"More or less."

"So, can you shut off the spells which are powering this thing?"

"Too late. First off, the cloud has already sapped the power from those spells. That's how it grew so fast. And second, the palace may be providing power to the cloud, but they did not create the cloud. If you want to stop this thing, you're going to have to find its source."

"Which is?"

"Somewhere in the palace." He took a deep breath, as though he were stumped by the whole affair.

"Well that's just great. How are we supposed to get through this thing?" She was about to scream in frustration, when she noticed that he was smiling. He already knew the answer. She bit back her words of rage and flatly asked, "What?"

"I said that my defensive spell was repelled. And it was. The cloud can't absorb magic that is not directed at it. But it can repel my defensive magic. _My _defensive magic."

"You think it can't repel mine?" Zelda asked.

"Your ancestor was known for her mastery of light magic. I wouldn't be surprised if she passed it on to you. It might be the only one of her talents that she passed on to you."

Zelda ignored the insult, and continued thinking. "And you think that my light magic will be more effective than your mastery of wind."

"It's worth a shot."

She shrugged and nodded. It was as good a plan as any. Taking a cautious breath, she approached the wall. He followed close behind, watching for danger, she expected. Slowly she raised her arm up and prepared herself.

"A shield, remember," he told her. "You just have to make a shield and send it into the wall."

Zelda focused her energy. Magic was a strange art. It was said to be a spark, at the core of each person's being. Most people believed that this spark was something mental or to be found in the soul. Only a few people actually believed that it was a physical presence. They argued that it was an actual object, located somewhere beneath the collar bone.

She didn't have much to say about the philosophical nature of magic, but she did know that when she used it, it made her heart pound and her shoulders ache. She avoided it as much as possible for that reason, with the exception of her mental shields. Unfortunately, she expected that she would have worse problems on her hands than a shoulder ache if she didn't at least try. So she called upon her powers, despite the pain.

Calling up a shield was theoretically a simple task, but it was made infinitely more complicated by the fact that she was not the object of the magic. Creating a shield in mid-air was difficult, although not impossible. It required focusing in on a single patch of air, and forcing the magic to surround it. But, with the air constantly shifting, latching on to such a small patch could be trying. Zelda's own distaste for magic had not left her with much experience when it came to magic external to her own body. At least, not when compared with her companion. It took her an embarrassingly long time to summon the shield, and another long space of time to reinforce it.

She hoped he wasn't using this opportunity to appraise her skills at that moment, although she knew full well that he was. However, she could at least brag about one thing. Although she moved slowly with her creation, by the time the shield was finished, it was a fine piece of work, perfectly spherical and shimmering with a golden light. She smiled just a little, admiring her handiwork.

"Well don't just sit there looking at it," he interrupted, "Send it in."

She nudged the shield forward through space, into the blackness before her. As she watched, the sphere, pushed into the wall, parting it as though it were water. She pushed it harder; soon the whole sphere was enveloped in the wall. She could no longer see it, but she could feel it. It was a whole foot inside the wall. Then it was five feet. Ten feet. The strain was starting to reach her. Twenty feet. The sphere was too far away. Fifty feet. Now the wall was crushing it. Crushing her. Seventy feet. Finally, the pain became too much for her. The little shield collapsed under the weight of the wall. Zelda dropped her arms to her sides, before rubbing the knot that had formed in her shoulders.

"Well?" he asked her, impatient for the results.

"It could enter just fine, as you said."

"Yes, I could see that much. What happened then?"

"I could push it some seventy feet in, before the weight of the wall and the distance broke through."

He paused, considering. "Think," he ordered, "think very carefully. This is important. Was it the weight of the wall or the distance that made the shield break?"

"Both, I think."

"Yes, but which one had the greater effect?"

"The distance, I guess."

"Can you be sure?" She would have thought he was mocking her, if it weren't for the serious look in his eyes.

"Not really. But I think the distance made the difference."

"So you think that you could maintain a shield under the pressure of the wall if the shield were closer to you?"

"I think I could."

"Good."

"Why?"

"Because that's how we're getting in."

She looked up at him in surprise. "You want me to shield the two of us, so we can just walk right in?"

He nodded, glancing back towards the wall. "More or less."

"That's your plan?"

"Well, I can't do it myself. Believe me, I'd much rather be in charge, but my magic is limited. It has to be you. You said you could do it."

"Yes, I said, but I didn't mean- I mean… with us in there…" Zelda trailed off, mumbling about danger. She was having a hard time wrapping her mind around his plan. It was stupid. It was needlessly dangerous. There had to be a better way.

Then again, those were the same arguments that her advisors had used against getting his help in the first place. She hadn't listened then.

Of course, that plan had relied on the mages' skills. Not hers. This plan hinged entirely on her ability. She cursed internally. Her strength was mental shields, not physical ones. She couldn't do it. She just couldn't do it. That was all there was to it.

Zelda didn't realize that she had been voicing these thoughts aloud until she felt a stinging pain on her cheek. It took her a moment to realize that he had slapped her. Not enough to hurt her- not really- but enough to make her pay attention.

"You can do it," he said, still holding his hand up threateningly, "And you will. And, for that matter, you will do it fast."

"What?" she asked, still momentarily stunned from the slap.

"The sun is setting. We have maybe five minutes of strong daylight left. If we're lucky, we'll be able to see a little bit for perhaps ten minutes after that. I, for one, don't really enjoy the idea of being up here, with this thing, in the dark. So you'll build that shield. You'll build it quickly, and you'll build it well. And you're not going to complain or doubt yourself right now. We don't have time for that."

"Where do we go after we enter the cloud?"

"We look for a campsite." He sat down, cross legged on the floor, and gestured for to begin. She waited a moment to see if he would explain further, but he continued to stare at the black wall.

Wondering where they could possibly find a campsite in a place like this, she began to call on her powers once again. As the world went dark around them, a golden matrix of her power spun around them, forming a cocoon, the only haven left to them.

Hello. Sorry, this chapter is a bit slow moving. That's the trouble with stories that involve magic. You get so bogged down in the "physics" of the magic, so to speak. Lots of explanation this chapter, but a lot more action in the next one. Which should be up pretty fast, because I had to split this chapter in two.

'Till then.

-Ornamental Reciprocity


	5. Cover

Zelda spent as long as she could crafting the shield. As she worked, she wracked her brain for every bit of information she could recall from her old tutors or from court mages. It wasn't much. Struggling to weave together a suitable protection, she cursed herself for not having studied harder.

She pulled layer after layer of golden-white light around them, weaving little fibers together. It was meticulous, like sculpting clay. A single crack could be fatal, she knew, so she dedicated all of her energy to pulling as much light around her as she could. The strain started to reach her after the first layer, and with each successive layer the drain became worse. Every time she raised her arms, her shoulders screamed in protest. Her legs wobbled beneath her, and she wished that she could sit. At the same time, she struggled to recall all of the rules for shield building, about perpendicular threads and successive layering. It was slow going, but she had to admit that she was proud of the final result. The shield, as good as she could tell, was perfect. Each layer interlocked just as she had planned. Each fiber was in place. The shield provided a dim glow to light their way, but it was not opaque.

There was only one slight problem, namely that, by the time she had finished, she doubted that she had the energy to so much as walk, let alone hold up her shield against the torrent of forces inside the cloud.

He was still sitting silently, as though in deep contemplation, so he didn't notice that she had finished until she coughed lightly. He shook his head at the little noise, as though startled. The sun had long since gone down, but he hadn't noticed. The glow from the shield was enough to light their way, for now.

"Finished?"

She nodded simply, lacking the energy for further explanation. He raised his arms and fired a blast of his own magic at the shield. The power ricocheted around, knocking Zelda off her feet, before it finally died out. But the shield had held. Zelda breathed a sigh of relief. She just might be able to pull it off.

"It is acceptable," he finally acknowledged.

She nodded again, leaning over to catch her breath. He looked scornfully down at her, until she straightened under his glare.

"We are leaving now," he informed her in a businesslike tone.

Zelda could have chastised him for his rudeness, before she realized what exactly had just happened. She had just built the shield. The shield which he was inside of, protected by, and which he desperately needed. For once she held the upper hand. And he wanted it back. She smiled at her revelation.

"First," she told him, "I want to know where we're going."

"To a campsite," he said simply, "I told you." His voice was getting nervous. He knew that she was catching on.

"What campsite where?" she asked, refusing to back down.

"I don't really have time to explain, right now," he said, gesturing in the direction of the long-set sun. "It's late."

"Well you're just going to have to find the time," she ordered him, enjoying the authority she had over his actions, at least for the time being.

She could see the old fury appearing in his eyes, the fury which he had been so artfully repressing for the last few hours. Silently gloating, Zelda looked him in the eyes, waiting for him to give in.

"Fine," he said, "If I know where we are, then we're going to head straight into that cloud and through a large archway. We head to the right, from there until we come to a second archway which leads to a large, mostly empty chamber. This room will have a crystal inside of it. That's our goal."

He used his power to draw a little figure in the air of two concentric circles.

"This palace is built like this," he said gesturing to his drawing, "The main body of the palace is the circle in the center, which is surrounded by the outer ring, where we are currently. Six bridges connect the two rings. As you can imagine, supporting this palace in the sky is hard, especially when one finds oneself locked up in a sword for half a millennium.

"So there's a back-up system to keep this thing from falling out of the air. That's where the crystal comes in. It's an old piece of magic, meant to amplify power which goes into it. I give it a little power; it amplifies it and keeps this palace afloat, even when I find myself… inconvenienced."

"So this place will never come down?" Zelda asked, curious. She had heard of magic with the power to amplify other magic, but the art had long since been lost. That meant that he must have been around and practicing magic hundreds, probably thousands of years ago. Although she had known he was old, she hadn't expected him to be that old.

"On the contrary, the magic in the crystal is still linked to my power. If I were to ever die, this palace would crash down on your country within moments. There are six of these crystals, spaced roughly evenly along the outer ring, each by a bridge."

"Six?" Zelda exclaimed, stunned. That one such remnant of the ancient magic remained was incredible. For there to be six was beyond belief.

"Yes, six," he answered, deliberately unimpressed with her awe. No point in upsetting her while she held the cards. "The one closest to us is on the right."

"But… six?" she asked once again, still overcoming her confusion.

"Six," he confirmed. She could see by the smirk forming on his face that his façade was failing. "But we only need to find one, tonight."

"Why?"

"These crystals are built to amplify any magic. They can amplify mine, sure, but they'd be just as receptive to yours. All you must do is cast some of your power into the crystal, and it will amplify it."

"And how do you propose I do that?"

"Just touch it to the shield. It looks to absorb magic. Just ensure that the shield touches the crystal, and it will cast a bigger shield. That circle will make our campsite for tonight. We will move out from there in the morning. Satisfied?"

She wondered when he had had the chance to think this through. Perhaps that was what he had been considering while she was building the shield.

"Alright."

"Be prepared for whatever we may see in there," he warned, although she didn't need the extra warning. She was already very aware of just how horrific the journey might be. They took their first step forward, Zelda teetering a little as she adjusted to walking and maintaining the shield, simultaneously. He stood just a little in front of her and to her right. In some ways, she realized, walking behind him was a little soothing. It made her feel like they had a leader.

When the moment came, Zelda didn't hesitate. She pushed hard into the wall, before her nerves could cause her doubt. It worked. The entrance into the wall was smooth, and for a few steps she had nothing but utter confidence. The wall didn't exert itself with nearly as much pressure as she had expected.

Being inside the wall was very different than watching the exterior. It was dark, surely, but the wall wasn't as solid as she had anticipated. Rather, she could see the room around her, lit by their little haven of a shield. Occasional black swirls danced through the air, seemingly absorbing all light. But, apart from the black tendrils and the relative darkness, there didn't seem to be any immediate threat. She could have laughed with relief. So it was just the distance that had broken her last shield, and the unfamiliarity of casting a shield on something other than herself. That was all it was. Nothing else.

Then everything broke down at once. It began when a shape launched itself at the shield. It looked vaguely humanoid, but seemed composed of shadow. It fell on the little sphere and pressed itself against the surface, like a child resting his cheek against a glass window. Another shape came from the other side. And another. Each collision weakened the shield, pulled apart the carefully woven threads. Zelda struggled, repairing damage as quickly as she could. But each time she repaired a section, another portion fell apart. She was working faster and harder than she had known she could, pulling together her defenses, which suddenly seemed woefully ramshackle.

In the corner of her mind, she realized that she was running, urged on by her companion, was forcefully dragging her through the first archway, but she didn't have time to worry about what her feet were doing. She was occupied.

They ran, further and further, until Zelda began to feel that she would pass out before they even reached their destination. Yet, amazingly, the shield held. No matter how many of the shadow creatures launched themselves at the pair, the shield was still holding strong.

We're almost there, she realized, as they hurried through the second archway. Just have to find the crystal.

Then it happened again. That feeling that she had in the Four Sword sanctuary, as though she were being torn in half and ripped to pieces. It came back with a fury. In a moment, the shield had shattered. Any control Zelda had had was wrenched from her. Suddenly she was writhing, screaming.

The vestiges of the light shield floated through the air, fading quickly. They had a few precious seconds to live.

"Damn it!" Vaati swore, grabbing the girl as she struggled. "Focus!"

It was no use, wherever she was, she couldn't hear him. The light was disappearing now. The shadows were almost impossible to distinguish anymore. He leapt out of the way of something. It might have been a shadow creature. It might have just been darkness. There was no way to know. Something touched him and he spun out of its grasp, falling to the ground hard.

There was another shadow coming at him. He thought that this one looked like it moved with a purpose. He jumped to his feet, dragging Zelda with him. She had stopped moving, which he hoped was a good sign. Maybe it meant she would come to in a moment. Or else, maybe it meant she was dead.

He dodged the shadowy arm that he was fairly sure he saw, this time colliding with something hard and stone. A pedestal he realized, which must hold the crystal. They had reached their destination. If only she would wake up.

He slapped her, hard, but it only rocked her head back and forth. "Come on, you bitch," he cursed. "Get up. Now!" He slapped her again. No reaction. Without thinking, he punched her in the gut, as though more pain might somehow bring her around.

It was not helping the situation, he knew, but there was little else he could do. It was funny, how in the last second of his life, all he could think about was how unfair it was that something else would kill her before he did. He slapped her one last time, screaming with rage, praying. He jumped again, leaving the girl behind, draped across the pedestal. He would save himself if he could, although he doubted that even that was possible. Preparing himself, he wondered if he could blast a path out of there, and then escape quickly enough, before the cloud converged to absorb his magic.

Zelda didn't wake up because of the slap. Or the screaming. Or indeed the shadow creatures lunging at her. She woke up simply because her fit had ended. It was fortunate that she had been concentrating so hard before her fit struck. Very fortunate.

Many philosophers believed that magic was essentially instinctive. Very little to do with consciousness and training and everything to do with muscle memory and split second reactions. In spite of the fit, Zelda's instincts were still raging and even before she had a single conscious thought, she had called upon her magic. And so it was, by sheer luck, that she managed to cast out a single web of a light shield that by chance touched the crystal on which she lay, before she promptly fell asleep.

In a second, it was over. The room suddenly illuminated with a bright light, forcing back the shadows, both the natural and the magical. The force expelled outward, crashing through the archway and into the halls beyond. The shadow creatures fled or were forced away.

Vaati stumbled in mid-spell, barely halting his blast of magic in time. He looked over to his companion, who has laying motionless on the pedestal. Wondering how exactly that had just happened, he walked cautiously over to her. She was draped over the crystal in the most inconvenient way imaginable, which her head pointing towards the ground and her legs up nearly two feet in the air. He supposed that he had tossed her aside just a bit too carelessly. But she breathing, and unconscious, so she would never need to know about it. No harm done.

He took her off the pedestal and lay her on the floor, as though checking for tangible proof of how what she had done. Instead, he simply saw her cheek beginning to swell a little. He bit his bottom lip, wondering if he really had to heal her. Serves her right for letting the shield go in the first place, he thought. But then he supposed that if she were to die, her magic would fail and he'd be right behind her. So, best to ensure that she wasn't too badly hurt, or at least, that she wasn't about to die.

He skipped over the facial wounds. A slap like that never killed anybody. Yet her rather labored breathing was problematic. A cursory examination showed that she had broken a rib. He wondered for a moment how that could have happened, before he recalled the punch he had given her and that he had then thrown her down. That could be it, he mused. Possibly.

But, at least her rib hadn't punctured a lung, he realized. That could be fatal. A broken rib would be painful, and a hassle for both of them, but she would live. That's all he needed to know.

Suddenly, there came a creaking noise, followed by a loud cracking sound. He felt his feet slip as they lost their purchase on the ground. Within a few moments, the entire floor began to tilt, and he and Zelda went rolling towards the outer wall. He crashed into the stone with considerable force, smacking his head against the marble.

"Damn," he cursed again, quietly. "I was hoping that wouldn't happen."

When Zelda awoke, she started to take a deep, slow breath, and then suddenly gasped. Her torso was on fire. She tried to cry out but she had already expelled the air from her lungs. She gasped again, torn between her need for oxygen and her need to escape the pain. It took a few minutes, minutes of intense pain and panic, for her to steady her breathing, slow, short breaths, so she could stand the pain.

"Glad to see you're awake." She heard his voice but she couldn't quite see him.

"Where-?" she asked, dazed, shaking her head just a bit to get a good look around. She caught sight of him, sitting cross-legged on a rug a little ways off.

"You did it," he told her. "I suppose I ought to congratulate you. You summoned a shield at the last possible second, heroically saving the day. Of course, it wouldn't have needed saving in the first place, if you hadn't messed up so spectacularly to begin with. So congratulations."

"Why does-?" she raised her arm to her torso, leaving her question unspoken. Raising her arm was an effort too, but not nearly as painful as breathing. In a way, she was grateful for the pain. The sharp pricks in her shoulder were slowly clearing away the fog surrounding her mind.

"It hurts because you broke your rib. Congratulations on that, too."

"Oh."

"Don't worry. No punctured lungs. No massive internal bleeding. You'll be fine, given a little time."

"We don't have a little time. We have to stop the cloud." She tried to sit up, but the pain shooting through her rib cage brought her back down again."

He stood up and smiled mockingly. "Well, you're just going to have to find the time," he told her, enjoying that he once again had the power. After all, she may control the shield, but at least for the moment, she couldn't even sit up, much less walk. If she was going to proceed further, she would need him.

She scowled, but the contortion of her face hurt. She lifted her arm once more to feel her swollen and tender cheek and lip. "How did this happen?" she asked, gesturing to the swelling on her face.

Her companion shrugged. "I haven't the faintest idea."

"Well then, what now?"

"We'll have to wait at least a few days, for you to recover some, before we move out."

"A few days? We can't wait that long. Who knows how big the cloud will be by then?"

"Relax," he told her, "I've been thinking about it, and it seems to me that the cloud grew so fast because it had been absorbing the offensive spells around my palace. Now that it's used up those spells, it's going to be growing fairly slowly until it can find a new source of energy. I think we have the time."

"So, what, we just make our way around, activating each of the crystals, and corner the thing in the center?"

"That's what I had planned," he began.

"But that's not what's going to happen?"

"We ran into a few small difficulties."

"Like what?" she asked, eyeing him carefully. It was then that she noticed something odd. That rug that he had been sitting on was not, in fact, a rug at all. It was a tapestry. "Are you standing on the wall?" she asked incredulously.

"That would be the small difficulty."

"What happened?"

"It seems that these crystals, although they are theoretically capable of holding any quantity of magic, don't seem to be functioning according to theory."

"You mean-"

"When your magic went in, mine came out. So, this side of the castle suddenly finds itself rather… unsupported."

"Your palace tipped?"

"Pretty much."

Zelda closed her eyes and exhaled softly. Perfect. Just perfect. Not only was she trapped in this palace with a dangerous lunatic and a magical hole in the sky, but the palace was now on its side. Great.

"What now?"

"We wait for a few days."

"And then?"

"And then we'll see." Zelda decided not to press for more details. He clearly wasn't in the mood to give them, and it hurt her to speak. She didn't much have the energy to argue.

There were a few moments of silence as Zelda closed her eyes and breathed softly. Nonetheless, even when her breathing was calm and her rib didn't hurt, her head was still aching. She reached up to rub her forehead.

"I can help with that pain, you know," he told her.

"From my rib or my face?"

"Not that pain. Healing- never been my specialty. I meant the other pain."

"What pain?"

"That pain that nearly got us killed. That made you break the shield. That stupid little fit you had. I can help you with that."

Zelda paused. She hadn't thought much about that pain after she had felt it back in the sanctuary. She had assumed that it was just a side effect of the magic that had been used on her. But now, apparently, it was dangerous.

"You know what's causing it."

"Yes."

"How?"

"I've felt it before. What you're feeling is a sort of separation anxiety. Part of your essence is still trapped in the Four Sword, just as part of mine is. It wants to reunite with the rest of you. It wants you to go back there. That's what's causing the pain. That little piece of your soul is calling out to you, clawing at you."

"You've felt it?"

"Indeed. And the worst part is that it only gets worse. Each time that piece of your soul calls out, it's going to get stronger and stronger, and much more insistent." She thought it rather unseemly that he was smiling as her told her this, like he was telling a ghost story.

"But you know how to stop it."

"I'm still here, aren't I? And you didn't see me screaming my lungs out back in there."

"And you will help me?" Zelda asked cautiously. She didn't like where this was going. He didn't smile like that unless he knew something she didn't.

"Of course. I'd hate to put myself in unnecessary danger. It's really quite simple. You will just have to lower the rest of the shields around your mind and let me in."

"What? No!"

"It's the only way. I can't do a job like this from the outside."

"I'm not letting you in to my mind."

"Fine. It's not my soul. What do I care?"

"I don't believe you."

"We'll see what you have to say in a few days." He shrugged and deliberately looked away, up towards the ceiling (or rather, the overturned wall).

Zelda bit her lip, thinking. It wasn't like him to just drop something like that. Not something important. What is he planning, she wondered. He's got to have a plan.

"Well, don't just sit there wasting time!" he called, after a few moments.

"What?"

"You said yourself we have no time to waste."

"And you said that we were going to wait here a few days."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean we're going to just waste the time lying there like a dead fish just because of a little broken bone."

"Well, what would you suggest I do then?"

"Practice," he answered simply, and she looked up at him confused.

"Practice what?"

"Your shield making skills need work. You're going to learn."

"And you're going to teach me?"

"If it will help get me out of here alive, then yes."

She rolled her eyes at his arrogance, but agreed that it would be a good plan. Yet, she couldn't help but wonder, as he sat down beside her, why he would impart such dangerous knowledge to one of his greatest enemies. She wished Link were there. He would have understood instantly. He would have been able to figure out exactly what he was planning.

* * *

><p>And there you have it. I made my set dead-line with one hour and eleven minutes to spare. Yay for beating procrastination! Also, for having no internet access for a while, and nothing else to do but write.<p>

I think this chapter was a bit more exciting. And it's leading into a couple of chapters that I think will be really fun.

As always, read, review, have fun.

'Till next time,

Ornamental Reciprocity


	6. Cramped

As a matter of fact, he did have a plan. And it was a damn good one, if he did say so himself. But it all came down to her, and whether or not she would take his bait. He looked over at the girl, who had managed (after much laborious grunting) to pull herself into a sitting position and to lean against the pedestal. He had set her to work summoning a shield in her hands, so that he could explain to her what she was doing wrong. But she was inexperienced, and the injury had made her weak, so it was slow going.

Her brow was furrowed in a look of intense concentration, or maybe pain. He couldn't tell and didn't particularly care to find out. He wondered, watching her stare at the empty space in between her hands, whether or not she knew that he had figured her out.

He suppressed a smirk. No, he decided. She probably didn't know. After a moment's consideration, he corrected himself. Not a chance. She would never have come up with him if she had known. She was too smart for that.

The girl sighed and dropped her hands for a moment, defeated. She looked up and met his gaze, before looking down, self-consciously. She resumed her practice, determined not to complain. He enjoyed making her feel uncomfortable. It reminded him that he had the upper hand. Of course, he knew absolutely that he was in control, but the occasional reminder never hurt.

He'd had it all figured out ever since the tea. In retrospect, he couldn't blame her for the slip-up. It was the boy's fault, really. Ever the gentleman, the lap-dog, he had to care for his princess. That was his mistake. He had fetched her tea. And not just any tea. He had fixed it just the way she liked it. Four spoonfuls of sugar, hardly normal.

That one, simple act had torn all of the girl's lies apart. She claimed that they barely knew each other. And yet the boy had known exactly how she took her tea.

But, and he congratulated himself mentally at this, he wanted to confirm his suspicions. The cake had been his test. He had to see how they'd respond when he gave her his little present. Of course, he had known she wouldn't accept it; that much was a given. But how she refused it, that was crucial.

As she herself explained, she didn't really like sugar, except in her tea. That little admission meant that putting sugar in her tea was something special. Only someone close to her would know her specific tastes like that. Moreover, he was sure that he saw the boy tense when he offered her the cake. It was only a little jerk, but it was an instinctive reaction.

The boy and the girl were close. Closer than they'd like to admit.

And, once that was revealed, he had to assume that the two of them had some kind of plan together, something to thwart him after her had taken care of The Cloud. From there, it was only a small leap of logic to guess what exactly they were after. He knew full well that he had to get it first. Of course, therein lay the problem.

While Zelda had been unconscious, Vaati had done a little exploring, inspecting the land within their little sphere of protection. There wasn't much to see. The shield extended out of the room, through most of the connecting hallway. But, more importantly, it also extended into the empty air around the palace. With a little maneuvering, he had been able to determine that their shield actually extended past the black cloud, into open space. That meant that he had a pathway out of there, at least for the time being. Given time, the cloud would just grow and swallow up their little shield, leaving them completely trapped. He knew that he had an extremely small time-frame to complete his task.

He sighed, watching Zelda summon a few stray wisps of light. She was really struggling. He ought to help her, he knew, but he just couldn't be bothered at that moment. There was thinking to be done.

Oh, how he wished that he could leave something this important up to chance. Like, wait until she was asleep and then sneak out, praying that she would stay asleep while he was gone. But that was too risky. He could try knocking her out, but girls like her had a pesky tendency to regain consciousness at just the oddest moments. Plus, he had no idea how long his mission was going to take.

No, magic was really the only option he had, but sleep spells were tricky, especially if he was going to pull one off without alerting her. If she were just an ordinary girl, there would be no problem. It wouldn't be difficult to fool some random woman. But, in her case, he just couldn't be sure. Her ancestors had always been good at detecting magic, even if they didn't excel at performing it themselves. And she had who knows how many shields around her mind. Plus, he had to be absolutely sure. He only got one shot at this.

In truth, the only possibility he could find, was if he had a pathway into her mind first, a way to breach her defenses. He had to get past her shields. And for that, he needed her to give in, to let him help her with the pain. He just needed to find a way to make her let him in, before the cloud grew too big and his time ran out. But that was easier said than done.

Suddenly, he heard a scream from behind him. Zelda was clutching at her head, wailing. He knew that the pain was back again. Nothing else could make her scream like that. Well, good, he thought. More likely she'll break soon. He turned around, without bothering to inquire if she was alright. She'd be begging for his help long before the pain did any permanent damage. Now, he just had to wait.

All this waiting made him restless. He hated sitting around, with nothing to do, hoping for pieces to fall into place. After a few moments wherein he suddenly had the urge to stand up and pace, he amended his thought. There was something to do: teach the girl.

Zelda had apparently recovered from her attack in the time he had been thinking, and had even finally created a flimsy, little glowing sphere. She smiled and leaned her head back, letting her eyes droop slightly. The pain in her rib had made her woozy. Vaati came up to her and looked at the tiny circle in her hands, which she cradled delicately, like a child. He raised his hand slightly, and in a second the shield had shattered.

"What did you do that for?" Zelda asked, too exhausted even glare.

"If your shield can't withstand that, then it would useless to us inside The Cloud."

"I'm tired. The only sleep I've gotten since we left has been when I got knocked unconscious."

"You're going to be tired in The Cloud, too. Try again," he told her, with no sympathy in his voice.

She tried. Nothing happened. After her failure, she looked up, dejected.

"It's not working."

"I can see that."

"I need a rest."

"No you don't. You need to focus."

He made her try again and again, until she was finally able to summon a shield that could withstand some of his lighter blows. As she practiced, he gave her little tips, about how to conserve energy and how to strengthen the shield against blows from many directions at once. The end product was passable, but it was plain that the girl was very inexperienced.

"You've made a start here," he told her, "but only a start." He examined the glowing ball in her hands. It was sturdier, reinforced with only as many layers as were necessary, to conserve energy. Yet, it was still a very basic shield, and, Vaati decided, they would need something more advanced if they were to make it through The Cloud. "What do you know about directional shields?" he asked.

She blinked in confusion. "Shields can have directions?"

"Of course. No one ever told you this?" At this he was genuinely surprised. Directional shields were a basic concept, theoretically at least. Even if she couldn't perform one, he would have expected her to know what one was. Apparently, since his time, the magical arts had really degenerated.

She shook her head. "I've never heard of that."

He took a deep breath, wondering how to explain such an elementary idea. "Look, the shields you make are meant to block objects from coming through them. That's called a non-directional shield. It blocks all objects indiscriminately, coming from both sides.

"A directional shield, on the other hand, will allow objects to pass through in one direction, but not in the other. For example, an outward-facing shield will let objects out of it, but not in. An inward-facing shield lets objects in, but not out. Do you follow?"

"Kind of," Zelda admitted, a little bit lost in all of the "ins" and "outs".

"It's like this. Inward facing shields are only impenetrable on the inside. So nothing escapes. Outward shields are the opposite. They direct their magic outward, so nothing can enter."

Zelda began to nod her understanding, but paused. "Wait, no. Shields are defensive magic. They don't direct their magic at anything. They just sort of exist."

Vaati resisted the urge to sigh. She just wasn't getting it, but at least she was asking the right sort of questions.

"That's true of non-directional shields," he admitted, "They are purely defensive. No direction whatsoever. Directional shields, on the other hand, could be considered offensive, because they specifically target one area, namely one side of the shield, and direct their magic in that direction."

"How can a shield be offensive?" Zelda interrupted, scoffing just a little. She had long since learned that light magic, with its tendency to form shields, was solely a defensive art.

"You really have no imagination. Anything can be used as a weapon, if you know how. It's all about creativity. Say, you can make a really small shield, low to the ground, where people couldn't see it. You could make your opponent trip and fall whenever you wanted him to.

"Or, if you're feeling morbid, you could create an inward facing shield in a bubble around a person's head. Blood would pump into his head, but it wouldn't be able to get back out. Air wouldn't be able to reach his lungs. Messy, admittedly, but effective. He'd be dead soon, and he couldn't even scream."

"Did you just suggest that I use a shield to decapitate someone?"

"Not at all," he said, waving his hand dismissively. Just as she began to relax, he clarified, "The head would still be attached to the neck. He'd just suffocate and probably burst a few blood vessels too. On rare occasions, I've seen men bleed from their eyes."

Zelda's eyes widened, and she looked like she could either vomit or scream or both. Instead, she just choked on her own unspoken words, and gazed up at him, plainly terrified. He just laughed.

"Well, think about it. Like I said, it's all about creativity."

"I'm not going kill people with my shields. Especially not like that."

"All the same, you're going to need to learn about directional shields, if we're going to get through this Cloud alive."

Zelda nodded reluctantly, admitting that he was at least right in that. Suddenly, she paused. "Wait a second; the Cloud absorbs offensive magic, which is why only defensive magic, like my shields, can penetrate it, right?"

"Right."

"So then, if directional shields are really a form of offensive magic, then wouldn't the Cloud just try to absorb them?"

He smiled a little. "Now you're thinking. And the answer is yes. Directional shields will draw the Cloud to them. Your job is to figure out how best to use that knowledge."

She nodded slowly. "Creativity, huh?"

"Indeed."

The rest of the lesson passed largely without incident. To save time, he refrained from suggesting any more violent murder methods, for which Zelda was grateful. She prayed that she would never need to magically suffocate or decapitate a person. All the same, she remembered the trick, just in case it should ever come up.

Every few hours, Zelda would start screaming again with the pain, and they would have to stop for a while, but otherwise everything went smoothly. As much as she didn't care to admit it, Vaati was very much correct about creativity in shield making. She listened carefully whenever he dropped a piece of advice, in hopes that maybe she could use it against him one day.

She was really quite impressed with his repertoire of attacks. She had never known there were so many ways to kill a person, let alone those using only a shield. In some morbid way, she was oddly inspired by his skill. She had even invented a little trick herself, for use inside the Cloud.

She called her technique The Mousetrap. Her plan was to create an outward-facing shield somewhere in the distance, and then place an inward-facing shield around it. The shadow creatures cloud would swarm towards the magic of the outward-facing shield, only to find themselves trapped within the outer shield. It wasn't the most elegant plan, she admitted, and she didn't know for how long she could maintain two separate shields, but it could be a useful distraction at some point.

As the training session wore on and Zelda's arms began to droop, he finally called it a day. When he made the declaration that they had finished, Zelda wilted to the floor, unable to will herself to move. Vaati stood up and walked away, leaving her for what she assumed would be the rest of the night. However, to her surprise, he returned, carrying a dry biscuit and her water-skin. Only when she saw the food and water did she realize just how hungry and thirsty she was.

Yet, she waited until he had put the food down and walked away before she grabbed at it. In spite of her rib, she found herself swallowing faster than she knew was possible. Within moments, the food was gone and most of the water as well, though her stomach was still unsatisfied with the meager meal.

She heard a chuckle from behind her and paused, only to realize that he had watched her scarf her whole meal. He merely smiled when she glared, and returned to his own food, which he ate in tiny, polite bites. 'How can he be so controlled?' she wondered privately. Of course, she had no way of knowing that he had eaten an entire meal before, when she had been unconscious, and was only eating now to mock her.

"Can I help you?" she asked, angrily.

"Not at all. Go to sleep," he told her, and stubbornly refused to say another word for the rest of the night. Whenever she tried to speak to him, he would simply give her a gloating smirk and stay silent. Eventually, she gave up and shut her eyes.

* * *

><p>It was during the night, that he finally had an idea. It was a long shot, but one worth trying. He was so very quickly running out of time. While she slept, he tried to recall everything he remembered about the pain that used to afflict him, that now afflicted the girl. He recalled the sensation, of not quite being torn apart. It was the pain of burning, of ripping, of not quite feeling anything at all. It was quite impossible to describe except that it was agony. He spent the rest of the night trying to figure out how best to imitate that pain.<p>

He tried it first, early in the morning, before she had woken. She looked peaceful in her sleep. It was time to mess with that. He focused his powers on her.

She started screaming before she was even conscious. She writhed on the ground, upsetting her broken rib, which only made her scream louder. By the time it was over, her eyes were wide open and she was lying spread-eagled on the floor, panting.

"Well, good morning to you, too," he said, sitting up as though he had just woken.

"Sorry," she mumbled. Vaati frowned. She must be tired, he thought, she would never apologize voluntarily while she was awake.

"Well, since you're up, what say we begin?"

He drove her hard that day. Training began without breakfast, and they barely broke for lunch either. He kept her from resting as best he could, even making her sit up without something to lean on, in spite of her rib. To her credit, she didn't cry, not once. He had seen girls break from less than that.

Yet she even appeared to be enjoying herself, if only a little. He could see that she was intrigued by the skills he was teaching her, just as much as she was repulsed by them. He supposed that she had never been exposed to anything this powerful. From what she told him, it sounded like even their expert mages were nothing compared to even the hack sorcerers of his day.

Whenever he thought that she was becoming too content, he made sure to inflict another fit on her. With his magically-induced fits, in addition to the real ones, now she was screaming every three hours. Towards the end of the day, it became every two. If the girl noticed a difference between the real fits and the fake ones, she didn't say anything. It was just as he had hoped. The pain had dulled her senses. While she was rolling on the floor, wailing so loudly he sometimes had to take a few steps back, she couldn't tell cat from a dog, let alone differentiate magical signatures. It was perfect.

He made sure to wake during the night as well. Keeping her awake was yet another way to obscure her judgment. The next morning, he didn't even bother trying to teach her anything. It was all she could do to sip a little water between her attacks.

It wasn't only the magical pain which bothered her. While she was having an attack, she would writhe around on the floor, injuring her already painful rib. Then, once the fit had passed, she'd be paralyzed for a few minutes with the pain in her torso. And, soon after she'd recovered from that, another fit would seize her.

Vaati wondered if he should try to make earplugs.

By mid-day, the girl was sobbing. He almost felt bad for her, having been through this exact torture himself. He remembered the days, about two months after his initial escape, when he had been reduced to nothing but whimpering in a corner, too exhausted to even shout. He remembered feeling the sweat drip down into his eyes as he pressed himself against the cool stone, desperate for relief. At times, even desperate for death.

He could tell when the girl's screams began to quiet that she was reaching this point herself. But it would be hours yet until she finally broke and asked for his help.

* * *

><p>Zelda wondered how much time had passed. She couldn't tell anymore. There was no sun to look at, no clock to read, only the pain to keep her occupied. Every few minutes, it would rip through her, like there was something tearing through her. At times she thought she would explode, or be torn apart, or burn to death. Twice now, she had suddenly gone blind with the pain, her vision fading to white.<p>

During the brief respites between the fits, she would lie, shaking with the pain in her rib and with fear. She had stopped trying to sit up, and let herself lay sprawled on the ground, her legs and arms shaking. One of her shoes had come off somehow, and her skirts were bunched up just above her knees, but she couldn't make herself reach down to fix them. Tears and sweat dripped off her face; she could no longer tell one from the other.

At last, her swimming vision focused, and she could just see him, sitting about thirty feet away. There was something. Something important that he knew. But her mind, in its panic, couldn't quite remember. Then her vision blurred again, and he faded away. "Who are you? Where did you go?" was all she could whisper, hoping that he would somehow respond.

When he heard her whisper, he knew that something had gone wrong. 'Who are you?' he thought. 'Where did you go?' That was not a good sign. If she couldn't recognize him, she probably couldn't remember his offer. He cursed to himself. He had pushed it too far. He needed her in pain, that was true, but she still had to be capable of coherent thought. Oh goddesses, he hoped he hadn't driven her mad. That would be very problematic.

He stood up and walked over, squatting down beside her. "Zelda," he asked, "Can you hear me?"

There was a moment of hesitation in which he feared that he may have done irreparable damage. But, then, she gathered her wits and spoke. "I can hear you."

He waved his hand in front of her face, but her pupils just stared straight ahead. "Do you remember who I am?"

She made a face that was something like a sneer, but she was too weak to really complete the look. "I remember you. I just can't see you," she whispered.

He sank back in relief. It wasn't madness that had her confused. It was a simple vision problem. Still, that was a close call. He hadn't considered it but, in retrospect, if he did drive the girl mad, then he would be trapped there, in that little shield, probably until he died of thirst. No, he had to stop this, before he did permanent damage. He could only hope that the pain she had already felt would be enough to break her.

Secretly, he stopped inflicting his own fits. He was all but sure she wouldn't notice if a few extra minutes passed between the pain. Besides, he needed her mind clear if she was going to be able to pull down her shields.

He gently stroked her forehead with false kindness, hoping, in her state, that she wouldn't notice his insincerity. "You just have to release your shields," he whispered to her, "I promise, I will help you if you just let the shields down."

She shook her head weakly. "I can't."

"It won't hurt, I swear. I won't hurt you."

She moaned softly. "No."

"Please, Zelda, you're not helping anyone by trying to resist the pain. You're not helping yourself. And, if you get struck down by a fit while we're in the Cloud and die, you won't be helping your people either. This is your only choice."

At last, she nodded and focused, finally giving up.

"Alright," she whispered.

He breathed a sigh of relief. He had her, and just in time. "Good, he whispered, "Just let your shields down. I'll take care of the rest." Forcing herself to concentrate, she began to slowly tear down layer after layer. It was a simple task, but weirdly comforting. Pulling down the shields was methodical; it gave her something to focus on. As she worked, she found a little bit of her mind coming back to her. Though still tired and in pain, Zelda let some of her fear slip from her. Although she was far from her best, she was at least able to think a little.

When her shields were down she nodded to him. "It's done."

"Excellent. Just relax," he told her, reaching out to grasp her shoulders. He waited a moment to let her get used to his touch before he proceeded further. Arranging himself so that he sat cross-legged just behind her, he slowly pulled on her shoulders until her head rested on top of his crossed ankles. He was about to proceed when he realized something embarrassing. He wondered how it had escaped his notice before.

Leaning over he whispered. "You'll need to undo the first few buttons on your dress," he told her. She jerked a little. Her newly restored faculties told her that this was wrong.

"What?" she asked, looking up at him, questioningly. She was very tense again.

He gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. "It's just the first few buttons," he said. "Your power center is located near your collarbone. I need to reach it. That's all."

She took a few deep breaths and finally said, "You're one of those people who believe that then, about magic having a physical center?"

He was slightly surprised at the statement, but he reminded himself that magic nowadays was only a fragment of what it had once been. As patiently as he could manage, he explained. "I do believe that, because it's very true. I'm sorry, but this is the only way I can help you."

After a few moments, Zelda seemed to acquiesce. Slowly, she reached up and undid one solitary button, before letting her tired arm droop back by her side. He reached towards her and undid two more. She tensed. But true to his word, he undid just enough so that he could reach her collarbone. Really, the distance exposed was not at all revealing. If she hadn't grown accustomed to the high, stiff collar of her dress, buttoned up to the chin, it would have seemed like a perfectly acceptable neckline. But, still, she felt uncomfortable. She opened her mouth to object, but no sound came out. Her brain was too tired to really let her panic, and now her body was too exhausted to fight back. Instead, she just lay there, letting her eyes close.

. Then, he reached forward, laying two fingers on each collarbone. His touch was light, even tentative. Zelda was surprised. If she didn't know better, she would have called it gentle. After a few minutes passed, and he did nothing which seemed particularly dangerous, she let her muscles relax and allowed her mind to drift.

It amazed him how easy it was to penetrate her mind, once she had let him in. It was a simple task, at first. He encountered only a little resistance. Two or three blocks, leftovers, he presumed. She probably didn't even know they were around her mind. So many people had weaved so many protective barriers around her mind, it was no wonder she had forgotten about one or two of them. He plowed through these remnants easily, accessing the core of her mind.

Fixing the pain was easy. Once he had learned to fix it for himself, all those years ago, repeating it was a simple task. Truth be told, he probably could have fixed it even without an invite into her head. But that wasn't what he had come there for.

Before he left her thoughts, he had cast a different spell on her. It wasn't quite a sleep spell, but it was more reliable and he expected that it would have the same effect, in the long run.

When he withdrew from her mind, she was lying clearly awake on the floor. Yet, though she blinked and moved, there was something wooden about her actions. She watched her own hand with open-mouthed fascination, giggling just a little as she waved her hand about in the air. He grabbed her shoulders and roughly leaned her up against the pedestal. She didn't gasp in pain or anything. It was like she couldn't feel it. When he waved his hand in front of her eyes, she didn't seem to see. It was plain that, whoever that young woman was, there was nothing of the princess in her currently.

He moved to leave. He had only a few hour window to fetch his prize. Gathering his robes he turned to leave, when a sharp tug stopped him. "What the-" he exclaimed, involuntarily, before looking down. It was the girl. She had grabbed on to his shoe and was rubbing her thumb on a decorative jewel. She smiled slightly, admiring it.

He yanked his foot away, but she held tight. He tried again, with no success. Brain-dead women could be very persistent. Finally, he reached down and wrenched her fingers off, jumping away before she could grab at it again. Shaking his head, he sighed in relief, marching away from the girl. He was almost to the wall, his point of exit, when he felt another tug.

He shouted his frustration, as he looked down. There she was again. She had crawled across the floor to get his shoe. 'Of all the things she could have wanted', he thought, 'it had to be my shoe'. Grabbing her fingers again, he pried them from his shoes once more.

"No," he ordered her firmly. "Now stop that. Stay." She didn't listen, and tried resolutely to follow his shoe across the floor. By now, he had realized one serious flaw in his plan. Even if he did make it across the room without her, there was no guarantee that she wouldn't follow him and fall to her death, or wander off into the Cloud and be lost. Finally, he grabbed her hand and dragged her back to the pedestal, picking up his pack along the way. Drawing a length of rope from his bag, he tied her hands together, and hooked the rope around the pillar.

"There," he said, "Now stay." She made soft whimpering noises as he walked away, but beyond that there was little she could do. 'At last', he thought, shaking his head. 'Stupid hypnosis.'

* * *

><p>When he returned, his frustration was gone. In fact, he was positively in high spirits. His mission had been successful, and he now cradled his prize in both arms. Of course, he realized as he made his way back into their little room, now came another tricky part.<p>

The girl was just where he had left her, gurgling slightly, tied to the pedestal. The spell had clearly lasted as long as it was supposed to. That was good. But now he needed to find a hiding place for his treasure. He couldn't keep it in his pack; there was no guarantee that the girl wouldn't find an excuse to look there. And the room itself was fairly bare-bones. No decent hiding spaces anywhere. Besides, if they were going to spend the next couple of days there, he didn't want her accidentally stumbling across it. No, there was really only one option.

He strolled straight past the girl, towards the archway leading from the room, and then into the hallway. Turning left, he walked as far as he could, up to the border of the black Cloud. This was a gamble, but it was the only place he could be sure that Zelda wouldn't be going to any time soon. Praying that it wouldn't move too far, he pushed his prize into the cloud, watching it disappear in the inky blackness. With that done, there was little left to do but return and bring back the princess.

He found her staring up at the ceiling and laughing, at what he wasn't sure. No matter. He undid the ropes binding her arms and lunged away quickly, before she could snatch at his shoe again. Carefully retracing his steps, he dropped his pack where it had been before and replaced the rope. Then he approached the girl from behind and pulled on her shoulders until she was coaxed to lie down. At last, he replaced his hands on her collarbones, and finally removed the spell.

She blinked in confusion, coming to. "Better?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered slowly. She looked up at his face above her. He made no attempt to move, seeing clearly that the close contact was making her uncomfortable. After a minute or so of silence, he began to wonder exactly how long he could draw this out.

Finally, she caved in. "Are you done?" she asked.

"I've finished for now. It is only a temporary fix. It will need to be repeated." He still didn't move. Finally, she reached up and pushed his hands off of her. At last, he slid away and stood to leave. She continued watching him until he was at least twenty feet away. The second he turned his back, Zelda quickly scrambled to redo the three buttons. She didn't quite feel safe until she could feel the heavy fabric of the collar pressing into her chin.

When her task was finally completed, she went to breathe a sigh of relief, when she noticed something odd. The skin around her wrists was bright red, as though it had been chafed somehow. 'Now how could that have happened?' she wondered. She was about to ask him, when she suddenly realized how tired she was. I'll ask him in the morning, she decided, dropping off to sleep. As quickly as the thought had come to her, it left, replaced by an empty, dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>Hey all,<p>

Here we have chapter six. I must say, I am making record time on these updates, at least for me. Let me know if I have bogged you guys down with way too much explanation about shields in this chapter. The actual mechanics of the shields aren't that important, but I thought that you should at least be told about them, since they're really the only magical abilities Zelda has in this. I spent half a night brainstorming different ideas for how to use shields in combat. I'm up to about 8 now. If that isn't a sign that I have too much time on my hands this summer, I don't know what is.

Anyway, please review, if you can. You know the drill. Comments, criticism, showers of well deserved praise ( hint hint :-) ). No seriously, reviews are great. I'm running into some difficulty because I know exactly what both characters are planning, but I alternately worry that I am revealing it too slowly or too quickly. Suggestions are extremely welcome.

Finally, I would just like to thank one extremely loyal reviewer, Tek Sonay, who seems absolutely determined, on his/her own (I don't know which, sorry), to review every single chapter, including the two that came out within two days of each other. So, wow. Thanks for that. I really appreciate it.

Till next time

-Ornamental Reciprocity

PS: Is anyone else confused by the system this website uses to measure hits? I finally read the instructions and I think I get it, but for a while there I was half-convinced that there was a group of readers out there who for some reason only read chapter 3. I thought that was odd.


	7. Breakthrough

Taking a deep breath, Zelda approached the black wall. Walking was still painful, even after two weeks of recovery, but nowhere near so arduous as it had been. Of course, that still left the issue of climbing. She wondered how on Earth she was meant to climb up this tilted palace, maintain her shields, and not simply collapse from exhaustion or pain. And on top of that, as Vaati had explained, her would not be able to use magic inside the Cloud, not without instantly attracting its attention.

Speaking of her unwilling compatriot, Vaati was back near the pedestal, very much occupied arranging and rearranging his pack. He said it was for "strategic purposes", but for some reason Zelda had the distinct impression that he didn't want to talk to her.

The last two weeks had been strangely awkward, she reflected, ever since he had helped her with the pain. She couldn't help but wonder what exactly he was up to. He had been acting very strange, at least for him. If anything, he had been acting helpful and inconspicuous, which she knew could only be a very, very bad sign. Between her constant fear, the aching pains, and a feeling she could only attribute to loneliness, Zelda was nothing short of miserable.

She could only pray that Link's mission was proceeding well. Until she had come up there, she had never realized just what a constant he had been in her life. Her silent companion, who followed her mercilessly. Yet as much as his austere nature could annoy her, it comforted her as well. He was like a stone wall, hard, cold, yet sheltering. She missed that. Being up in the middle of the sky, surrounded by blackness, with some rather difficult company, was understandably isolating. How she wished that she had access to all her powers, that she could contact him. Just to know he was alive, that they still had a chance.

But she couldn't. Vaati had seen to that.

As if on cue, he approached from behind, holding out the two satchels. "I fixed yours, as well," he told her, presenting her pack with a wholly unnecessary dramatic flourish.

"There was nothing that needed fixing," she informed him, rather more sharply than she realized. These two weeks trapped up there were giving her the worst case of cabin fever. She looked at him and shook her head slightly, her way of apologizing, before accepting the bag. "Thanks," she muttered, turning back to the wall. "All set then?"

"I suppose so." He looked back over their makeshift camp. "Though I loathe to leave behind such pleasant memories."

She glared at him, and shoved the pack on her shoulder. The message was clear: We are leaving now!

"Do we go back the way we came?" she asked, gesturing to the right. He froze momentarily. She had just pointed down the path where he had hidden his prize all those nights ago.

"No!" he answered, a little too loudly. Even as the word left his mouth, he knew it was a mistake. It was too quick, too obvious. With a girl like her, such a mistake would be dangerous. He knew that he had to cover for his mistake, quickly.

Unthinkingly, he latched his arm around her waist. "After all," he continued, rapidly pulling words off the top of his head. "the path should be easier this way. And I would hate to see any more unnecessary pain come to the princess in her delicate state." He gently lay his other hand across where he knew her still healing rib lay.

If it were physically possible to feel the heat of someone's anger coming off their skin, he knew his hands would be burning. He wasn't sure if it was his mocking tone or the fact that he had touched her, but if the girl had been testy before, she was positively vengeful now. On the plus side her rage seemed to have paralyzed her temporarily, as though she were torn between screaming or simply lunging for his throat.

That was good, he reflected. Anger was distracting. Anger would cover for his little slip-up.

After a few moments, Zelda, still stiff with rage, managed to compose herself enough to say a few words. "Step away." That was all she seemed able to say. She had to swallow hard just to gain enough composure to manage that.

He complied, technically speaking, but made sure to do it in as bothersome a way as possible. As he pulled away from her, he ran both his arms along her stomach and back, ensuring that he remained in contact with her for as long as physically possible.

His message was just as apparent as hers had been. Although his demeanor was playful, there was a not so heavily veiled threat beneath his movements. He wanted to remind her that, in spite of her magical shields and light powers, she was, essentially, helpless before him, if he ever chose to turn on her.

Watching her face, the way her anger faltered just a little bit, he could tell that the message had gone through. He was surprised. He had never expected his mistake to become such a grand opportunity. Ever since she had regained the ability to walk, she thought that she was in charge, that she didn't need him. Truth be told, she probably didn't, not since he had taught her so much about her powers.

He wondered, vaguely, if he should try to break another bone of hers. It would definitely cement his position of power. But it would also be quite a hassle if they had to do serious battle with the Cloud. Probably best to hold off on it, then. For now.

By the time he snapped out of his reverie, Zelda had already summoned a shield around the two of them. It was a simple, non-directional shield, but strong. He tested it with a little gust, but it held up as expected.

Zelda could have killed him. If she had been at liberty to, she probably would have. He was infuriating. She wished she could have thought of something biting to say back at him, but she knew that her words had little effect on him. She really hated how she let something so simple as a few words and a touch get so angry. How was it that he could maintain such a perfect poker face for weeks on end, and she couldn't even deal with a little contact? And to make matters worse, he was walking very close behind her. Of course, she knew that wasn't really his fault. The shield was really quite small, and close quarters really were a natural side-effect. But that didn't make her want to shove him any less.

"Shall we go then?" he asked, unsurprised when he was greeted by a stony silence. Together they took the first step into the black.

Even knowing what to expect, Zelda still found the inside of the Cloud disturbing. As she crossed the barrier, she shut her eyes instinctively, waiting for the shadow creatures to charge. Yet there was no reaction. Vaati bumped into her where she had stopped suddenly: a not entirely subtle reminder to keep moving. She opened her eyes and looked around. Everything seemed peaceful, for the moment. Casting her gaze from side to side, Zelda saw that not much had changed in the last two weeks. The room around her looked like a darkened version of a palace, with a few solid-looking, but seemingly harmless, trails of shadow floating about.

She took another hesitant step. Still nothing. She hoped that was a good sign.

Now that she was inside the Cloud, in very real danger, her courage suddenly failed her. Out of nowhere, the anger that mere seconds ago had seemed all consuming seemed completely unimportant. It was replaced by fear. Without turning around, she whispered to her partner, "What now?"

"Keep walking," he told her simply.

"Why isn't it responding to us?" She didn't know why she was whispering. She wondered if the Cloud could hear. If it could see. If it was watching them, waiting for them to be vulnerable.

"I don't know, but I hope it keeps it up."

She took another few steps forward, with him close behind. Subconsciously, she realized, she had purposely backed into his warmth, unintentionally seeking comfort. The moment she noticed this, she jumped just a little. But there was no way to correct it, not without putting them both in danger. Besides, it felt good to know that she wasn't alone.

By now the black curtain had closed behind them completely. She could no longer be entirely sure where their camp was anymore. Her anger was completely gone as her heart rate sped up. She almost wished the Cloud would do something, anything, just to end the suspense.

"Where do we go?" she asked. She herself couldn't see more than a few feet in any direction. She could only pray that his memory of the layout of his palace was enough to navigate by.

"Just follow the path for now," he answered softly. Of course, she knew that they couldn't continue with that for long. In a palace turned almost completely on its side, there would be no simple path. They were going to have to climb.

Slowly, the pair trekked down the hallway. For the moment, the path was easy. There was some rubble spread on the floor, from when the palace tipped, but nothing substantial, yet. That was, until the floor began to become steeper and steeper. In her mind, Zelda compared the overturned palace to a glass on its side. She knew that they must be trying to climb up the inner edges of the glass. She also knew that soon the floor would be completely vertical.

Nonetheless, she didn't voice her concerns. Instead, she just hoped that he had a plan. And please goddesses, let it be a good one, she prayed.

"Stop here," he ordered suddenly. She stopped obediently. Somehow, this didn't seem to be the moment to argue.

She carefully observed the surroundings, trying to see what he was thinking. All she could see was a broken statue of a woman jutting from the wall. Or, the floor, rather. The actual floor. She groaned just a little. Traveling in an overturned building was truly mind-boggling. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Zelda forgot about the issue. She had much more important matters to consider.

"Can you climb up there?" Vaati asked from behind her, gesturing to the statue. The statue had snapped off at the waist when the palace tipped, but the base was firmly bolted fairly high on the wall.

"Maybe," she told him.

"Try."

She reached her arms up and latched her hands in a death grip around the statue's leg. She bent her knees just a little and jumped, pulling with her arms. Zelda was by no means a strong girl, but her desperation provided her with the strength to raise herself a foot or two. Once she pulled her chest up over the statue, she found the rest was much easier. Beside her, Vaati pulled himself up easily, carefully staying within the protective boundary of her shield. He sat straddling the statue's full skirt as Zelda tried to steady herself.

Just as she was sure she would be able to regain her balance atop the precarious perch, she realized her mistake. Her concentration had slipped. The light shield around them flickered. For a moment the world went dark.

It only took her a second to regain her focus. Almost instinctively, she snapped her attention back to her magical efforts. The shield roared back to life, momentarily bathing the room in a bright glow.

"Alright?" he asked, looking out at the still unresponsive Cloud. She nodded shortly, too terrified to speak. They were only just begun and already she was losing focus. Worse, she could feel the strain of the magic nagging at her as she sat there.

"Good," he told her. She could tell by the tone of his voice that he must have been scared, too. If this were a training session, he would never have let such a mistake go so easily.

Raising his arm, he pointed into the distance. "That's our next target." Squinting, Zelda could just see the white marble of another statue maybe ten feet away and slightly higher up, also anchored to the wall.

It was then that Zelda realized his plan, to cross between the statues, using them like stairs to climb up the palace. She thought it might work, if they had enough statues. That just left one tiny problem: how to get to the next one.

"How in the heavens are we meant to get all the way over there?"

A trace of a smirk played at his lips, like something suddenly struck him as foolish in the middle of the darkness. Slowly, he reached behind him and, without looking, pulled a length of rope with a heavy weight on one end from his pack. "I told you I had strategic purposes," he whispered.

Zelda wasn't sure why she laughed. It was a desperate laugh, and she could feel tears pricking at her eyes. She didn't know why her body had chosen this moment to become scared. "Alright then," she whispered. "How do we do this?"

He didn't answer her, but was instead gazing at the next statue with such a look of intense deliberation that she didn't think he was paying attention.

"Zelda, I need you to do something very complicated. Something we haven't practiced yet."

"What?" she asked, panic edging into her voice.

"I need you to make a hole in our shield."

"What? Why?"

"I'm going to throw the rope through and around the statue. I need you to make the hole, and then snap the hole shut, so it's just big enough for the rope, you understand?"

"I-I think. I just don't... I mean." He watched her surprisingly non-judgmentally. Even he knew that he was asking something unfair of her, but there was no way around it. It was his own fault, really. He hadn't been here for so long and had forgotten the exact distances between the statues.

"It will be alright," he whispered in wooden sympathy. Zelda took a few deep breaths, gathering herself. She thought back and was sure that she had learned something like this from her tutors, once, long ago. She could do it. She had to.

"Yes. I can do this. Ready?"

"Ready," he confirmed. She closed her eyes, focusing. Suddenly, a hole was rent through their protective boundary. Blackness penetrated their light cocoon. The hole came out larger than she expected, opening up nearly half of their shield. She panicked, pushing the sides back together, as fast as possible, to close the gap, before she remembered that she was meant to leave a hole for the rope. She rapidly pushed the sides back out, trying to stop their progress.

She squeezed her eyes together tightly. Had she failed? Could her shield sever the rope? Or worse, were they left exposed to the blackness of the Cloud? Slowly, she opened her eyes, and saw to her relief that their shield was still intact. Better yet, the rope was intact, hanging out perfectly through a hole just large enough for it to fit through. Not even a single shadow was seeping through. She could have cried for joy. Beside her, Vaati looked quite relieved.

She peered into the darkness, and could see that the rope was wrapped around the statue, the little weight on the end somehow having created a perfect, makeshift knot. How could he have possibly thrown it with such accuracy? At the moment, she didn't care.

"Let's go. Do we jump?" she asked him. He nodded. Even he looked too surprised to speak. Without another word, the two of them wrapped the cord around their hands and wrists. It was a dangerous alternative. Ropes like those could burn fingers and, if enough weight was applied, crush bones. But neither of them trusted their abilities to maintain a grip when they fell.

With a solemn look, they nodded slightly and jumped. For a moment, they were freefalling and Zelda feared that her stomach would be pulled up from her throat. And then they hit the bottom of their swing. Pain rocketed threw Zelda's hands as the cord tightened around her fingers. But she didn't feel anything snap. That much was a relief. They swung for a few moments beneath the second statue, before their momentum calmed down. Then came the hard part.

Climbing a rope, Zelda knew, was a notoriously difficult activity. But two people, with their hands bound up in the cord, climbing the same rope, that was unheard of. First, they both had to untangle their hands. They couldn't climb that way. The searing pain in her fingers only became worse as she had to manipulate them. Vaati ordered her to remove her hands first, and to use him for support if necessary, while his hands were still secure to help keep them in place.

She followed his advice, clinging to his shoulder with one hand as she freed the other. It wasn't long before she was merely dangling on the rope, her hands the only force keeping her aloft. Next he untangled his own hands, although he had a much easier time of it. Zelda felt the tiniest spark of jealousy at his skill. His hands were lithe and dexterous. A few ropes were nothing to them.

Then they climbed. It was a strenuous task, that left both of them panting from exertion. Zelda had an even harder time of it, having to pause occasionally to ensure that their shield was standing strong. There were moments when she felt like all she could manage was to put one hand a few inches above the next, like her body wouldn't even be pulled up with her. In the near darkness, she even fancied that her arms were stretching, and yet she gained no ground.

And yet, suddenly, after what must have been ten minutes of solid, slow progress, her hand met solid stone. She almost didn't know how to respond. Her hand slipped momentarily, surprised by the slick surface of the stone, compared to the course rope. Yet, she clung tenaciously to their life line. With a few more tries, she was finally able to pull herself over the ledge. She sat panting, the muscles in her arms feeling like jelly, straddling the statue's hips. He pulled himself up beside her and gasped for breath.

"Made it," she whispered.

He nodded. "One down," he gasped.

"How many of these statues are there?" she asked.

"Seven," he answered, "They should get us a good way up."

Without explicitly saying it, both parties understood that it was time for a break, if only for a few minutes. In the silence, Zelda looked down at their temporary home. This statue had fared better than the last. One arm had been lost, but the torso and head were intact. She studied the face for a few moments, and was taken aback.

Something about the sweet, almost chubby face, reminded her of someone, although she couldn't be sure who. She shook her head. Now was not the time for this.

When a few moments had passed, the two of them gathered their nerve to try again on the next statue. As she had the first time, Zelda opened up a hole in the shield. He through the rope, up which they climbed. The second time was harder, maybe, because her muscles were already sore and she was slowly giving in to exhaustion. But, after the first time she had gained a strange confidence, inspired by routine. Somehow, even as she struggled for breath and for purchase, she was sure she could do it.

This feeling of confidence didn't waver as she climbed between the last five statues. Even as she lay panting atop the final statue, she wasn't surprised by her success. Yet, there was one problem which still plagued her. The Cloud still hadn't responded. Not that she wasn't grateful, but it seemed to her that if the Cloud were waiting for a vulnerable moment, it had had hundreds of them. What was it doing?

She was the tiniest bit surprised to realize that she had in fact recovered faster than her partner, who was resting with his head against the wall and his eyes shut. She wanted to close her eyes as well, but she feared that if she did so, she might fall asleep, which she was sure would be the death of both of them.

To distract herself, she took in her surroundings once more, this time intending to see if she could find their next pathway. Instead, she looked down for a moment and was suddenly distracted by this statue's face.

This one she was sure she recognized. It was her own.

"Vaati?" she asked, receiving only a grunt of recognition in reply. "What are these statues?"

"Hmm?"

"That statue we're sitting on. What is it?"

Reluctantly, he sat up to inspect the statue's face. "Ah, yes." He nodded in understanding. "I made these years ago."

"But that's-"

"You? Not exactly. One of your ancestors. You really are quite similar."

She paused for a moment, realizing that that was the closest thing he had ever given her to a compliment, although she doubted he meant it that way. "And the others?"

"The six maidens. The ones who eventually sealed me that first time."

"Did you make these before or after they sealed you back then?" she asked, just the tiniest bit curious, in addition to her confusion.

"After."

"Why?"

He gave her a look as though the answer were incredibly obvious. "Why shouldn't I?"

"Because you hate them. I mean us. Me. Why would you want to keep them preserved here?"

"Why shouldn't I keep a trophy?" he asked, giving her a strange look which she couldn't quite place.

"But it's a trophy of your failure."

He smiled, and Zelda instantly regretted her words. "Hardly," he told her. "Look around. I've outlived all of them." He paused for a moment to look at Zelda. "Well, most of them, anyhow."

"But they defeated you."

"But I'm still here. The game has not ended yet, not as long as I am here. You can defeat me, maybe, but you cannot kill me. These trophies are here in commemoration of that fact. Someday soon I will have a trophy for my victory as well."

Zelda didn't ask him to explain, although she had a dark suspicion about what he meant. She tested her arms and legs, and found them sufficiently rested. She tested the shield and found that it was still strong. Finally, she turned to her partner. "We should continue," she told him softly and stood up, waiting for his response.

* * *

><p>Hey everyone. This was originally only going to be half the chapter, but then it got very long. So I decided to break the chapter here, in order to post an update sooner.<p>

Sorry this one took so long, but I'm fairly pleased with the tone of most of the passage. I was trying to make it seem like an action sequence, but then I realized just how tedious all that climbing would be. So instead, I tried to slow it down and just make the atmosphere darker. Tell me how you think that turned out (I'm usually awful at suspenseful things).

As always, I love reviews. Please comment on how you think it worked out.

'Till Next Time

Ornamental Reciprocity


	8. Pin

He stood up with her, surveying the situation. They were now balanced precariously atop a statue, hanging at least a hundred feet above any other surface. Both of them kept an arm carefully placed on the wall to keep from toppling off. The overturned palace was proving problematic to navigate, as what was traditionally called the floor was now nearly vertical, and the walls around them had risen too steeply to be of any use thus far. Instead, they were left hanging on a tiny precipice, overlooking a fall that was certain to be their death.

Even more disconcerting, the Cloud around them didn't seem to care. It hadn't so much as reacted to their presence. Zelda wished she could believe that it hadn't noticed them, but somehow she got the feeling that it was planning something.

While she was lost in thought, Vaati pointed to something beside her. "That wall," he said. "We climb that."

"Why that one?" she asked.

"Because once we get high enough, the wall should curve back down. We'll be able to walk."

Zelda nodded her understanding but not her consent. After their ordeal to get that high, she wasn't anxious to try climbing again. Her arms were still aching, and her legs were starting to wobble beneath her. Moreover, without the statues to use as stepping stones, she had no idea how they were meant to get up there.

"Climb it how?" she asked, scanning the wall for any surfaces they could use to anchor their rope.

"That." He gestured to something a foot or so beyond her, set into the wall. She squinted into the darkness, peering through the dim glow cast by their shield. With enough concentration, she could just see a series of carvings in the wall. Although she couldn't quite make out the images, Zelda knew that they must have originally been intended for decoration along the edge where the wall met the floor. They were made in a graphical style, where short lines maybe two inches deep had been cut into the wall to depict the boundaries between objects. That left only the thin lines, barely wide enough for to jam a few fingers in, for them to use as handholds. She couldn't imagine how they could use them to climb.

"You can't be serious. We can't make ground with handholds that small. And I don't even think you could jam your foot into one of those at all."

"Do you have another idea?"

She scanned the wall again. "There's nothing," she told him. "Those carvings are useless. The rest of the wall's smooth. I can't hold up this shield much longer, and there's no other way up this wall. That's it." She paused as she finished her rant, realizing afterwards how pointless that had been. If anything, after her rant, she only felt that the situation was all the more hopeless.

"Giving up so easily? I would have expected more."

"Shut up," she answered simply, self-pity creeping up on her.

"Are you going to try, or are you content to die here? Make no mistake, if you're giving up on me now, I'll do everything in my power to escape without you. In fact, if you're giving up now, I will push you off this statue myself. Now if you don't do this, I will guarantee that you die. If you try, you might survive. Your choice."

Although her temper had not faded yet, Zelda could hear the cool threat in his voice. He was very serious. She exhaled slowly. When he put it that way, she didn't really have much of a choice. "Fine. We do it your way."

"Most people usually do."

She glared at him, but said nothing, choosing instead to slowly pick her way across the statue towards the carvings. Walking alone was difficult, on her shaking legs and the narrow statue. Yet finally, she reached her destination, just a half foot from the carvings. She reached out, inserting her fingers in the narrow cracks, before moving to step off the statue.

"Take off your shoes, Zelda."

"What?"

"Your shoes."

"Why?"

He rolled his eyes slightly, as though it were obvious. "Because your shoes are too big to fit in the cracks. Barefoot, you might be able to use them as footholds. With shoes, you can't."

"This is insane," Zelda muttered, under her breath, but she obeyed anyway, pulling off her shoes and inserting them into her pack. She let out a deep breath as she jammed her fingers once more into the tiny cracks. This time, though, she lifted her bare feet and tentatively pushed her toes into the cracks as well.

Her balance was precarious at best. Without solid handholds, she could feel her body threaten to topple backwards at any second. Already, her arms were shaking with the effort of holding herself up, and the pads of her fingers felt raw from scratching against the rock. She hadn't even started climbing yet.

Vaati climbed up beside her. She was slightly surprised to see his arms trembling with the strain as well. Subconsciously, she had almost expected him to just glide up the wall, like some kind of lizard.

Finally, with a troubled breath, she pulled her right hand off of the wall and hastily shoved it in a crack a few inches higher than her head. In that split second that it had taken her to move, she had very nearly fallen off. Her weight was still scarily far back that she was afraid she would lose her hold any moment. Desperately, she clung to the crack, trying to make her fingers fill the whole space, as though that would be enough to keep her in place.

To her immense relief, she didn't fall. With another quick movement, she moved her right foot up the wall just a little. Yet, as if by miracle, she still clung fast to the wall. That's one step down, she thought. Just a thousand or so more to go. That's not so bad, is it?

Sometimes, in the depths of terror and despair, she amazed herself with her ability to lie.

Over time, the climbing got easier. The interior wall curved down, just as they had anticipated. Eventually, it was more like climbing a very steep slope, as opposed to a wall. Soon, she realized, they would be able to simply crawl. The thought was very relieving, as she could feel, rather than see the blood that caked her fingers and her feet. She couldn't wait for solid, flat ground again. She managed, with painful, grunting effort, to wiggle her swollen fingers into an excessively tight crack, enormously pleased with her success so far.

Beside her, her companion was already celebrating their success. There was only the easy part left. They both relaxed. Then the Cloud hit.

Zelda hadn't realized what happened until she felt herself falling. The impact of the shadow creature against her shield had knocked her back before she could even register its presence. Her shield shattered in an instant and she lost her grip on the wall. She found herself eerily calm, waiting for the imminent collision with the ground beneath her. She was ready to be battered and beaten by the walls around her. Instead, all she felt was a sharp pain in her hand.

Looking up she realized what had been her savior. The particular crack she had chosen to worm her fingers into was too small for her painful, puffy digits. Even against the force of her falling body, her fingers had stuck fast. Although she hadn't heard the snap, she could tell by the way her hand was twisted that her fingers, and possibly her wrist was broken. Yet she couldn't care less. That little reprieve was enough. She wasn't falling.

Above her, she could see that Vaati hadn't moved. Lacking a direct connection to the shield, he hadn't felt the impact of the creature. If anything, he looked vaguely confused at what just happened. But then, she wouldn't be the least bit surprised if those for moments had seemed much longer to her than they had to him.

Gathering her senses, she braced her other hand against the wall, and then forced her feet into the cracks. It was only after a moment of thought and a sharp glare from her partner that she thought to recast the shield. Her new shield was weaker, but it was better than nothing.

"What happened?" she heard his voice screaming at her. "Why did the shield go down?"

"Didn't you see it?"

"See what?" He was glaring at her now, as though it were entirely her fault. She thought that, if he wasn't clinging to a wall, he was liable to grab and shake her viciously.

"It was one of those creatures. It slammed the shield. I lost my grip."

She could see in his face how the anger was drained and replaced by fear. "Climb. Now! Hurry."

She didn't need to be told twice. Quickly, she started pulling herself up the wall, faster than she realized she could. It wasn't very steep now. She was barely using the handholds. A few more minutes later, they were stumbling to their feet. It was flat enough now to run. They were gaining on their destination now. Coming closer. For a moment, it seemed like they would reach their destination without another mishap.

Then another creature launched itself at the shield. Zelda was barely able to keep the golden wall intact, although the force of the impact sent her sprawling into Vaati, knocking them both to the ground. The rolled back down the slope a ways, nearly past the point where they could climb back up. But, digging in her heels, Zelda managed to stop their progress, mere feet before the point of no return.

"Don't get up!" she screamed. "Stay low to the ground." She reasoned that if they couldn't stop the shadow creatures, at least she could minimize their impact on their progress. They ran doubled over, as quickly as they could. The next time a shadow creature bombarded them. she fell down again. But, with her center of mass closer to the ground, she didn't fall as far. They lost only a foot or so of progress.

She scrambled to her feet again, struggling to gain her footing as quickly as possible. Now the creatures were swarming them. She fell to her knees a few times, getting jostled this way and that by the creatures which were suddenly everywhere. The pressure around her threatened to crack the shield itself, but she held on desperately. She didn't want to imagine what would happen if they broke through.

She realized, suddenly, that she wasn't really moving much. He was behind her, pushing her along, once again. Most of her energy was going to the shield, which was hanging on, somehow.

"There," she heard him scream. Focusing beyond the golden shield, past the legions of shadow monsters, she could just see what he meant. Off in the distance was the little pedestal they were looking for. The crystal that could save their lives. There was just once tiny problem.

It was directly above them.

Zelda knew that she didn't have the energy to climb anymore. Not even if there were convenient handholds nearby. She just couldn't do it.

That left only one option. A desperate, stupid option. Her life just seemed to be full of those lately.

She was going to have to throw a shield at it. Project a shield not around herself, around some tiny piece of air, and then push it with all her might into the air. And pray her aim was true. She tried to focus, tried to pull a tiny speck of a shield into existence.

A golden light flickered in front of her for a few seconds before it disappeared. She tried again. It lasted only half that time. She desperately tried again and again, but she was unable to pull more than a wisp of light into existence, and she could only manage that for a fraction of a second. Softly, she breathed deep. Suddenly, she knew what the problem was.

She was far too exhausted to make two shields. One was pushing the limits of her endurance. Blinking twice to clear her thoughts, Zelda did the unthinkable, the only option left to her. She let her shield down.

In an instant, the creatures were upon them. But just as quickly, she cast forth the biggest blast of energy she could. It wasn't much, but it went whipping through the air faster than she has expected. The arms of the creatures were upon her. She felt a burning sensation over her face, her arms, her legs. Then the world exploded in light.

It wasn't until she realized that the creatures were gone that she knew her missile had hit true. She gasped in relief, desperately pulling breath after breath into her lungs, pleased only to have the ability to breathe at all.

Then there came a cracking noise, followed by a long groan. Suddenly she felt herself tumbling to the ground. The actual ground. Chuckling a little bit, largely from the remnants of hysteria, she whispered, "Looks like the palace righted itself."

She saw her partner make short, disconnected nods and manage a brief "Ya" noise, the closest thing he could make to a "Yes" at that particular moment.

She tried to stand, but her legs didn't respond. Nor did her arms. She couldn't even manage to shift her broken fingers out from under her body, where they throbbed painfully. Already, her eyes were closing, and she couldn't be bothered to care. Sighing softly, she managed to whisper, "I think we're done for the day." She was unconscious before she even got an answer.

* * *

><p>When he first woke up, the first thing he noticed was the pain. There wasn't an inch on him that didn't ache or throb or pound. With a groan, he stretched a little. Moving his muscles helped relieve the stress just a bit. Still, it was better than nothing, he reflected, twisting his head from side to side. He stretched his arms first, and then moved to stand and walk around for a few moments.<p>

It was then that he realized that Zelda was lying on top of his legs. She was sprawled perpendicular to him, with her face pressed up against the floor, and her left arm twisted uncomfortably. Her eyes were shut and her breathing was slow, so he could only assume that she was still asleep. Perhaps more interesting, though, were the dark brown marks, up and down her arms, on her face, and around her legs. They looked like acid burns, and though most were seemingly random, a few had the distinct shape of a claw or a hand. He could only assumed that these marks came from where the shadow creatures had touched her.

Gently, he grabbed one of her arms to examine the wound closer. Already, little fibers of pink skin had started knitting together at the border of the burns. So she would heal. That was a good sign, because he didn't need to look at his own arms to know that the same burns covered him as well.

She didn't react when he put her arm back down. She was very much asleep. In a strange way, he was almost proud of her, that she had learned her lessons so well, and even saved them both. He was at least feeling generous enough, that he didn't throw her off him immediately. Didn't slap her and shout at her for having done something so stupid as to purposely let their own shield down. There would be plenty of time for that once she woke up. He could let her sleep for now. He supposed that she had earned that much.

* * *

><p>When she woke up, however, it was a different story. While she was still groaning and rubbing the knots out of her aching muscles, she became suddenly aware of a furious glare directed at the back of her head. Tentatively, she turned around to meet his gaze.<p>

"I suppose I owe you some congratulations," he began, in a quiet voice, masking his anger, "You did get us out of there alive. But the way you did it could not have been stupider if you tried. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I had to touch the pedestal, simple as that," she answered, sounding more indignant than she had hoped.

"By leaving us at the mercy of whatever those were. Nice. Smart."

"I didn't really have a choice, now did I? You told me yourself. If I gave up, I would die. You would kill me. If I tried something, then maybe I had a chance. I tried something."

"Well, you could have come up with a plan, first. Then tried something."

"Like what?"

"You could have said something. I could have helped." He started to wave his arms in a funny way, that strangely reminded Zelda of a child who had been overlooked somehow.

"You. Helping? That's a laugh," she sat up straighter, matching his glare.

"What else do you think I've been doing here? I haven't killed you yet, have I? Though I have half a mind to."

"Deliberately not causing harm is not the same as helping," she shouted, her voice hitting a strange, high note that she didn't know she could reach.

"Well maybe, with a few thousand years of extra practice, I might have known what to do. Did you think about that?"

"Alright, then, enlighten me. What, with your infinite wisdom, would you have done?"

He dropped to the ground in front of her, brandishing his wrist in her face. A small chain, bearing a light blue jewel, was wrapped around it. "Do you see that? Do you see it?"

"So you have a bracelet. How is that supposed to help?"

"This is just like one of the six crystals that hold up my palace, in miniature."

"What?"

"If you had waited a few moments, I could have used this and not left us in extreme danger in the process. Think for a moment, bitch, before you do something like that."

"You keep one of those on you at all times?" she asked slightly alarmed by level of magical sophistication that went into his outfit alone.

"No. I keep several." She could still hear the fury in his voice, but for some reason this notion struck her as strangely amusing. Trying to keep the smile from her voice, she looked him straight in the eye.

"Is that why you where so much jewelry?"

"Yes," he answered in a straight voice, apparently not picking up her feelings.

"Including the jewels on your shoes?"

"Yes," he answered again. Suddenly, Zelda facade cracked. Against her will, she began to chuckle. It was just a short burst of laughter, but it served only to enrage him further. Forgetting his reserve, he slapped her.

Her neck snapped sideways with the force. The impact was sobering and the smile faded from her face. "Don't you ever do something that stupid again, you understand?" he whispered.

He stood up and walked away before she had a chance to respond. It's very hard to storm away in an enclosed space, but he put in a very good effort.

Zelda closed her eyes for a moment, berating herself for her laughter. The slap didn't hurt much, but she still felt, somehow, embarrassed. Turning around to hide her red face, she shut her eyes to the world and exhaled slowly.

Unexpectedly, she realized that tears were forming in her eyes, although whether from the pain, or shock, or sheer anger she couldn't tell. At the same time, she couldn't help but be a little disgusted with herself for breaking down. Allowing her head to dip towards her chest, she tried to calm down.

Out of instinct, she reached out with her magic for Link. It was an old habit, ever since she was a kid. Whenever she was lost or alone, she could always find him that way, and he in turn could find her and bring her home. He had been her constant companion, and without him she couldn't help but feel a little incomplete and completely alone. She inwardly flinched the second she started to make the telepathic connection, knowing she would meet the resistance of Vaati's block on her mind.

It didn't come. She paused momentarily confused, halting the connection. She tried again. There was no question about it. The block was gone. She didn't know how it had happened, and she couldn't care less. Her breathing quickened with anticipation. She could contact Link. She could contact home.

After a second her senses came back to her and she deliberately relaxed her shoulders, curling up into a little ball, trying to look as despondent as possible, so as not to alert her surly companion. Then, when she was convinced that she had put up a convincing act, she reached out mentally for her old friend.

His thoughts, given voice in her head, came quickly back to her.

"Princess?" he asked in her mind.

"The one and only," she answered, doing her best to insert a laugh into her thoughts.

"How? I mean he-"

She thought for a moment, and suddenly the answer came to her. The block had been down for days. Ever since he had helped her deal with her pain. He had brought down all of the shields around her mind. Including his own apparently. First big mistake. She smiled at the thought.

"It was an accident," she answered, thinking to spare him the exact details. "Vaati brought it down himself, by mistake."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. A little worse for the wear, but completely alive. Don't worry about me. What about you?"

"I'm well. The mission's going smoothly. I have three already. Just one more to go."

"Praise the Goddesses." She hesitated a moment, allowing a smile to creep across her features, though she kept her face hidden deep within her arms. "I think we may just be able to pull this off."

"Of course we can."

There was a silence between the two of them for a moment. A silence of deep, unspoken thoughts which they both knew.

"Please be careful," she reminded him, for what felt like the millionth time.

"Of course. And you. Can you tell me what has happened to you?"

She glanced over to Vaati, who appeared to be stirring slightly from his angry cloud. "I don't think I have time," she answered. "He'll get suspicious if I pretend to cry too much longer. Just tell me, how are things on the ground?"

"Getting worse. You can't see the sun anymore. Torches burn all day long."

"What? But Vaati told me the Cloud would probably halt growing. It feeds off of magic, and once it sucks his palace dry, it wouldn't be able to grow anymore."

"I don't know why he would say that, but the thing is growing full force. There's no doubt about it."

"But why would he lie about that of all things?" Her gaze wandered over to Vaati, who slowly stood and began to turn towards her. "He's coming. I have to go."

"Keep safe."

"And you."

She cut off the connection, and sighed, already missing the warmth of his simple sentences. She had always appreciated how he could take her at face value, how he never insisted she do what she could or would not. He never demanded more than she could give him and always answered with simple honestly. But it had been good to hear from him. To know he was safe.

Plus, he already had three of the Gems.

The four Gems, passed down through the royal knights, were the key to opening the passage to the Tower of Winds, the only known connection between the ground and the floating palace. They had been lost years ago, but there were legends and sketchy sources. With a veritable army at his disposal, she imagined that Link would have no trouble finding them. Apparently, her faith was well founded.

It didn't matter, all of the sudden, what Vaati thought of her last minute gambit, or what revenge he intended to take. She had a savior, who she just confirmed was absolutely alive. Her enemy had made his first big mistake, and now she was going to reap the rewards.

* * *

><p>Hey everyone,<p>

Sorry this update took about twice as long as usual. I moved. Packing, unpacking, it's been crazy. But I'm settled now, so I will hopefully have more time for writing.

I had a bit of trouble this chapter trying to explain what the physics of traveling in a building that's shaped like a donut on its side. I was confused as often as not. If you get absolutely confused, look at a roll of duct tape, turn it on its side, and see if that helps you figure it out. Imagine that at the start of last chapter, they were at the bottom of the roll, and they're trying to climb to the top. I had to do that a couple of times to keep in straight in my head.

As always, please read and review. Enjoy.

Till next time,

-Ornamental Reciprocity


	9. Initiative

Although he had visibly cooled over the last few hours, Zelda still did not trust Vaati well enough to attempt to actually speak with him. After she had cut off her connection with Link, he had come over to her, and silently bandaged her hand, checking for signs of massive injury, as well as the burns on her arms. He apparently found nothing too alarming, since he dropped her arm and walked away, muttering that she'd live.

That was the last interaction they had had all day, and she was beginning to wonder if there wasn't something else that was bothering him. Normally he responded to anger by pushing her harder and harder, forcing her to endure more pain than she thought she could. The very fact that he was not still screaming at her or trying to hurt her was actually more alarming then the thought of the pain itself.

For a long time, she had waited, and watched, just to see if he would snap at any moment. He did nothing. Now, he looked as though he had fallen asleep. It wasn't entirely unexpected. She felt tired, too. They both still had a lot of healing to do.

Sitting in the silent room, she longed to try to contact Link again. She desperately wanted to hear from him, to know that he was still safe, that he had found the gem since they had last spoken. That he was just waiting for her to dispel the Cloud and that then he would find her. That they still could fix everything.

But she couldn't risk it. She didn't know the extent of his abilities, but she figured it was possible that Vaati would detect her secret communications. Then he would reinstate the block, and she'd be blind once more. Furthermore, she reflected, it was probably a bad idea to interrupt Link in the middle of his adventures. A badly timed telepathic message, a momentary distraction, that could be the end. Best to wait, then, until she had a decent plan.

The sudden confidence she had after speaking with him the first time disappeared as quickly as it came. Now that she had a moment to reflect, she realized just how flimsy their plan looked. First she had to destroy the Cloud, which may be impossible in and of itself, while Link found the last gem. And then he had to not only summon, but climb the tower in time to reach her, so that the two of them could fight Vaati, the extent of whose powers she didn't even know. And that was assuming that he didn't just kill her right away, just for the fun of it.

Absently, she nibbled on a hard biscuit she had found in her pack, groaning as the compacted chunks settled roughly in her stomach. Despite the days spent trying to study Vaati's every weakness, she knew she was pitifully ill equipped to fight him. He had abilities that she had never heard of, let alone experimented with. She shuddered slightly at the thought of what he could do.

And where did that leave her? Pinned, basically. She was alive because she could defeat the Cloud. If she didn't fight the Cloud, then she was trapped. If she did, then she was at his mercy. The worst was just beginning.

Stop thinking that way, she warned herself, negative thinking won't help. But then, the rational part of her countered that it wasn't negative thinking. It was logical assessment of the circumstances. False bravado and unfounded confidence would get her nowhere. There was no doubt that before this was over, she'd have to fight her way out.

If she was going to fight, then she was going to be prepared.

As she considered this, a very strange idea struck her. She double checked quickly to see that Vaati was still asleep. His eyes were shut and he showed no signs of moving. She took that as a yes.

Slowly, she reached around, and pulled her pack in front of her, digging through it for something she had all but forgotten about. Finally, she grasped it, and yanked hard, ripping it from the satchel.

She stared at the set of traveling clothes in front of her. Frankly, she was surprised she hadn't thought to wear them earlier. They were much less cumbersome than her formal attire. Although she was accustomed to such outfits, and hardly noticed their weight anymore, she knew that all of the climbing would have been easier without a skirt.

But now, suddenly, her clothes took on a whole new meaning. Suddenly she realized why she had been so reluctant to shed them. The dress, her high starched collars, and stiff bodice were not just a symbol of her status. They were her last shield, the last tie she had to a time when she was in control by virtue of her birth alone. Now, it seemed like she was going to have to fight for that power, yet all she could do was cling uselessly to her upbringing.

Well, her upbringing had not prepared her for this. How many times had she been caught off guard because of something her education had not taught her? How many times had he bested her with superior knowledge and experience? She had been made to believe that magic was simple, relatively weak, and of limited use. She was wrong. She was made to believe that shields were for defense. She was wrong. And she was told and told that this insane plan she concocted could not work. That, she knew, had to be wrong.

So then, she finally realized, everything she knew and everything she was was going to have to change. If she was going to win this, then she had to go even one step further.

She looked over her shoulder one last time, to see that Vaati was still unconscious, and then she turned her back on him and, with trembling fingers, began to undo the buttons on her dress. It took her a few minutes to slip out of the gown completely, but only a few seconds to put on her new clothes. They consisted of a snug, but fairly flexible, thick pair of brown pants and a loose white shirt bound with a strong leather belt. In a strange way, the simplicity was comforting. The feel of the tight fabric gripping her legs reminded her of armor.

This was her mental armor. From now on, she would protect her own mind. The first battle was ending. Soon the Cloud would be gone, and this strange working relationship, something very near something akin to friendship, would evaporate. Well, she would be ready. He wouldn't bother her. His taunts would not touch her. Her every move would be made to calculate his weaknesses. Every blow he thought he made was just one more chance to weaken his defenses. War was coming, and she was going to win.

With this decision made, she reaches into her pack one last time, pulling out the knife he had given her when the journey first began. She hadn't even touched it since. The thought of a blade made her uncomfortable, as though she feared humiliating herself with her own lack of experience. Ever since he had laughed at her, back then, she had kept the knife hidden away, though even she herself couldn't say why.

Now, she slipped the blade into a notch in her belt, ready to pull it out if need be. She may not be an expert, and if she could only make a tiny cut, then she was going to make that cut count.

Finally, her change complete, she closed her pack and sat down. She would have liked dearly to sleep, for her body was still aching and her burns were searing from the pain of changing clothes. But there was no time. Instead, she held her hands out before her, slowly bringing a shield into existence around her. As the hours wore on, she sat practicing every technique he had taught her, remembering how best to hurt the enemy.

As she sat there, she realized something odd. Her goal, all of the sudden, was not to save the kingdom, to help her people. Her goal was just to kill.

* * *

><p>Vaati woke up to a flickering light past his eyelids. At first he merely shut his eyes tighter, which worked for a time, but at last the light grew too powerful for him. Finally, he forced his eyes open, with the intention of quenching the light any way necessary. He glared at the room, looking for the source, and was surprised and mildly irritated to see that it was Zelda, who had summoned the largest shield he had yet seen her manage.<p>

He groaned a little and rubbed his forehead. He supposed that he couldn't blame her for practicing. She needed all the help she could get. Still, a little sleep would be nice.

"What are you doing?" he finally asked. "You need to sleep." I need to sleep, he thought, but didn't say.

"I'm fine," she answered, without looking up. Loose threads of golden light whipped around her and embedded themselves in the shield. He sat up to watch her, absently impressed by the improvement in her skill.

"You changed your clothes," he mentioned, as she worked. That, in and of itself, wasn't too surprising. If it had been up to him, she would have changed days ago. But it was the way she wore the new outfit that surprised him. It was with such utter confidence that it seemed out of place. He had imagined that she would be fidgety and uncomfortable once rid of her stiff fabrics. Instead, she sat at ease with the tight feel of the pants and the looseness of the shirt. He even saw his knife sitting in her belt, easily within reach of her fingertips. And she seemed comfortable. Either she had a lot of experience in these clothes, he guessed, or she could pull off one hell of a bluff.

"I did," she answered simply. There was a momentary silence as he inspected her shield, running his hand over the golden surface, searching for something to say.

"Well done," he told her at last. "Impressive. May I come in?"

There was a sudden clicking noise as the shield reversed direction. He felt his hand plunge through the surface of the shield. Stumbling a little to regain his balance, he walked through the shield, marveling at how she had instantly turned an outward facing shield into and inward one. He didn't recall teaching her that.

"That's a neat trick. When did you pick it up?"

"A while ago," she lied simply. It had been less than an hour before.

He leaned against the inside of the golden wall, slowly sliding into a sitting position on the ground.

"Have you been at this all night?"

"Mostly."

"Really? You didn't sleep at all."

She shook her head but didn't speak. A nervous feeling was growing at the pit of his stomach. Zelda was acting strange, to say the least. First the outfit, and now this unusual apathy. She didn't seem angry at him, or scared, or even proud of her newfound powers. She merely seemed uninterested. That didn't bode well for him.

He realized that he needed to figure this out, fast. Something had changed to give her this confidence. He needed to know what. And to do that, he needed to test her. Fortunately, that was one of his true passions in life.

"Remember that night I helped you with the pain of the sword?" he asked. She nodded slowly, suspiciously. "Do you remember how I said that the fix was temporary?"

She nodded again. "I do."

"Then, you will understand why I feel that now is a good time to repeat the process. We are close to finally taking on the Cloud. I will not risk the pain incapacitating you during that battle."

Zelda paused a moment, her stomach fluttering. This was the test of her resolve. She remembered what this process entailed. Although she kept her breathing measured and her face blank, she could not stop her heart from racing. She almost said no.

But her rational side kicked in first. He's scared, it whispered. He's doing this to alarm you, and if you let it, he will win. Let him do what he must, don't show your fear. This is the only weapon you have against him.

"I understand," she said calmly, and dropped the shield around them. "I have put up no mental shields since the first time. It should be simple, for you, yes?"

He nodded, slightly dumbfounded by her calm stare. This was very strange. She's discovered something, he thought. It's given her this confidence. But what?

He walked over and sat behind her, gently pushing her shoulders back until she lay down with the top of her head just barely on his crossed ankles. "I trust you don't need to open this shirt further," she told him. "The neck is loose enough for you to reach." Slowly, he lay his fingers on her collar bone, pressing harder than before. Almost pressing hard enough to cause pain. She didn't seem to care.

This was very strange. He remembered the last time, how even delirious, she had twitched with discomfort, longed for him to move away. Now, she didn't seem bothered in the least. Of course, he had no way of knowing that inside her mind, Zelda was warring with herself. A large portion of her was begging her to stand up and dart away. But a small portion of her, unfortunately the portion that seemed right, told her to use this. This was just an opportunity to expose a weakness. Nothing more. Finally, Zelda decided on a move.

Relaxing her shoulders, she pushed herself backwards, closer to him, just a little bit, finding the position that was most comfortable. At last, she sighed and let her head rest, now fully in his lap. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, relaxed.

It was a small gesture. From his point of view, she predicted, it would have looked only like she had made herself more comfortable. But it was enough. With her eyes shut and her neck and shoulders relaxed, she could have been sleeping. He froze, watching her lie perfectly still and calm. The Zelda he had dealt with would never do that. She would be on her guard, stiff, watchful. And she would never, ever, voluntarily move closer to him.

He wasn't sure what she was thinking, what she had found, and he definitely didn't like that his own plan had backfired on him. Thinking quickly, he formulated a new plan, one to figure out exactly what had happened.

Rapidly, he opened a pathway into her mind and quickly cast a spell to incapacitate her. It was the same one he used to before; he didn't have time think of a new one. When he at last retreated from her mind, he saw her staring at him blankly, an empty shell of what she once was. He sighed with relief, knowing that, at least for the moment, he had time to think.

He sat back for a second to puzzle out the situation, when she suddenly grabbed for him, reaching out for the bright red jewel on his foot. Too late he remembered the side-effect of this spell, her sudden obsession with anything shiny, namely his shoe. "Zelda," he whispered. "I am not in the mood." Without a second thought, he grabbed the rope from his bag and tied her hands together, finally wrapping the rope around the pedestal, keeping her in place. She didn't object to the treatment, but simply looked sad, almost scared, to be separated from the object of her fancy.

He shrugged off the situation for now. He would have to figure out what caused that strange side-effect later.

Then he turned his mind back to more pressing matters, what had caused Zelda's sudden shift in attitude. He knew for a fact that she couldn't contact the outside world. He had thrown up that shield around her mind himself, and there was no way that she could take it down. That meant that whatever she had discovered that led her to change this way could only be within their campsite.

Rising to his feet, he tore the room apart, ransacking it, looking desperately for anything that could provide an advantage to her. But the room was very simplistic. There was nothing there but the pedestal, the crystal, and a few decorative carvings. There were a couple of mildly interesting engravings around the room, but they had nothing to do with the situation at hand, and besides that they were written in such an arcane dialect that he doubted she'd even be able to read them.

In short there was absolutely nothing that could be even mildly useful to her. Nothing at all. That left only one, remote possibility. Could she have wandered into the Cloud? Would she dare do that?

He didn't think so, but then again this girl was hard to predict and prone to stupid decisions. She just might do it. And now that the palace was righted, she'd be able to move pretty quickly. Her skills were improving very fast. Maybe she could have made it all the way to the old campsite. And if that were the case... could she have discovered the treasure he had hidden there, all those weeks ago?

He remembered, back then, when he had returned flushed with triumph at his discovery. Back then, it had seemed like a brilliant plan. Stealing the last of the gems needed to open the gateway to his palace. It seemed perfect. Without it, there would be no way for Zelda to reunite with her friend. There would be no way to defeat him. But now he wondered if he hadn't made a grave miscalculation.

Maybe, in taking the jewel from the hands of the hero, he had delivered it straight into the hands of the princess.

It was unlikely, but it was just within the realm of possibility. Just possible enough to cause him to panic. He needed to check. He needed to know if the gem was still where he had left it. But he couldn't leave the campsite on his own, and there was no way to subtly convince the girl to go back there. She'd know something was wrong before he got the words out.

He leapt to his feet again, searching for the jewel, just to see if maybe she was careless enough to have left it somewhere where he could find it. But it was nowhere to be found. It occurred to him that maybe she could have hidden it in the Cloud, just as he had back then, or worse yet, dropped it over the edge of the palace, where it might fall to the ground for her hero to find it.

The possibilities were endless, and damn it all, he couldn't check them. She may have backed him into a corner and he didn't even have a way to know if it was true. A combination of hatred and panic swelled in his stomach.

He whipped around to face the girl, who was struggling now against her bonds. "Is this what you had planned?" he asked. "Did you take it?" Of course she didn't respond. She didn't even seem to notice his anger. All she could care about, at the moment, was the shiny jewel she couldn't touch.

He searched the room one last time, but he couldn't find anything. He didn't expect to. Finally, he gave up and untied the girl. She had been struggling more than he realized. Her wrists were even bleeding a little, but he was too angry to care. Before she could lunge for his foot again, he grabbed her shoulders and forced her down. She resisted valiantly, for a hypnotized girl, but he was stronger and she was very uncoordinated. He pushed her down a bit more forcefully than he had intended, savoring the feel of the flesh caving beneath his fingers. He hoped he left a bruise. Within moments, he had the spell removed, and the normal Zelda sat before him.

The first thing Zelda realized was that her legs and arms were contorted strangely, as though she had been desperately trying to flip over. She didn't recall doing this. The second thing she noticed was that her wrists were chafed, even bleeding a little, and her broken hand was throbbing something horrible for no apparent reason. Yet for the life of her, she couldn't say how these things had happened. And finally, she noticed that Vaati, sitting above her, looked positively furious.

Again, she didn't know why. It was at that moment that she realized that something had happened while he had been in her mind. Time had elapsed, and something had happened. Although what it was, she couldn't say. Still, she kept her face resolutely blank as she sat up and slid around to face him.

"Are we done?"

"Yes," he answered tensely, his jaw locked with anger. "We're done."

"Is there a problem?" she asked.

"None. Why do you ask?" She could hear the fury in his voice, but he didn't seem inclined to say why.

"You look upset," she answered, in slightly vicious mock concern. "I hate to see you this way."

That was enough. Before she could even register what had happened, he had her by the shoulders, and then, just as quickly, his right hand moved to her throat. He rose higher on his knees until he was above her, the pressure of his hand enough to slowly force her towards the ground. At last he had her pinned, and he had to restrain himself not to push harder. He was overcome with the desire to hurt, his arms shaking with the want to simply crush her and be done with it. He thought, if she struggled, then he might have done it.

But instead she simply lay there, beneath his hand. He thought he detected something akin to terror in her eyes, but it was impossible to tell. He didn't care. He pressed just a little harder, cutting off her air supply for a moment, but not strong enough to crush her windpipe entirely. He needed her to live.

"I know, Zelda," he began, his voice going deeper as his restraint cracked, "that you haven't slept all day. Nonetheless, I don't want you to sleep. And I don't want you practicing your little shields. What I want is for you to stay right here. Not to move. And not to speak. I want you to do absolutely nothing, you understand?"

She didn't move an inch, didn't speak. She couldn't speak, he realized. He still had a hand clamped down on her throat, blocking off her air. Her face had started to turn a little red with the need for oxygen, but he figured he could hold on another few moments. He continued talking.

"You know that I can't kill you, yet, but believe me, if you so much as roll over right now, I swear I will make you hurt worse than anything you've ever felt. If you so much as breathe too loudly. " At last, he pulled his hand off of her throat. She gasped a little, relieved to be able to breathe finally. He stood up, above her, watching to see if she made any indication of movement.

She stayed perfectly still, he wide eyes watching him as he finally turned and walked away. A small part of her wished dearly to be rebellious, to shout just to spite him, but the rest of her knew that this was not the time. Something had set him off, she just couldn't figure out what.

The evidence in her head was too disjointed. Whatever had happened, it had something to do with the way her wrists were bleeding and the way she seemed to have been twisting in his grasp while he worked in her mind. Had she tried to hurt him and couldn't remember? Was he angry at her for that?

But he didn't seem to have been physically injured. She imagined that he would find the idea of her physically fighting him to be more amusing than anything else. Had he tried to hurt her? Had she resisted? But what was the point? What could he possibly gain? She couldn't even remember being in pain.

There just wasn't enough to go on. She just couldn't make sense of it all. She knew that he had been perturbed by her behavior earlier- that was the whole point of it- but she didn't see how that confusion had turned so suddenly to rage. She was lost.

And, to make matters worse as the hours wore on, she was tired. Now that she lay still, it was all she could do not to drop off into sleep. She was, truthfully, exhausted. To keep herself awake without moving much, she blinked rapidly and forced herself to run over everything that had happened that day, looking for the elusive clue. She could find nothing. Finally, when she thought that she would simply shut her eyes from exhaustion, he called to her.

"Get over here," was all he said, but she hurried to obey. Until she could determine exactly what had happened and where his mood was now, she wasn't going to risk angering him.

She got to her feet, grateful for a chance to stretch her aching muscles. She saw him standing next to, of all things, a fire. She wasn't sure how he had set it or what it was using for fuel, but she realized all of the sudden that she was grateful for the warmth and light. They hadn't had a fire in all the time since this whole journey had started.

"Sit," he ordered her, and she lowered herself beside the fire, basking in the warmth in spite of her rather dire situation. She missed the familiarity of the flames mere inches from her legs. He walked over and sat beside her. Closer than she would have expected, but not so close as to make her uncomfortable. She wondered what that could be about.

Without a word, he took her arm and removed one of the bandages, inspecting the wounds beneath it. His eyes squinted a little in confusion before he looked up at her. "You heal fast," he informed her. "Your magic, I'd guess. You don't really even need these anymore," he told her, gesturing to the cotton bandage. But he replaced it anyway. She didn't ask why.

After a moment of tense silence, he made a strange gesture that Zelda didn't recognize. Something flew out of the fire and came to his hand. She watched curiously as he offered it to her, before she recognized it as a piece of dried meat. "It's not the best," he warned her, "but I always think it tastes better warm."

When she made no move to accept it, he added, "Eat it. You're weak. If you want to survive, you need sleep and you need food." She stayed still. "Are you going to take this, or do I have to force it down your throat?" She took it then and ate it dutifully.

In the back of her mind, she realized that this whole encounter seemed almost like an apology, or rather, a poor attempt at one. She didn't know him to be the type of person to apologize, and yet she couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't seem angry anymore. He seemed almost sad, and even a little scared. Or he was just putting on a very good act, she reminded herself. He was a very good actor.

"Look," he said after another few minutes of silence. "I know I ordered you not to speak back there, but I'm rescinding that now. Talk to me."

"What's there to say?" she asked in return. "I never expected anything else from you."

"I know you didn't. Neither did I." He paused. "Ask me a question."

"What?" she asked.

"A better question."

"Why do you want me to ask a question?"

"Because I'm curious to know what you'll ask."

She stared at him for a few moments, trying to dissect his thoughts. That was as strange a reason as any she could possibly imagine, and she could only assume it was a lie. But then again, he had been known to do strange things. Her first instinct was to wriggle out of it somehow, the only way she had ever learned in court. To pass it off as a joke.

"Do you really wear jewels on your shoes for magical protection?"

He looked at her in a sideways way. "Yes, I've told you. Why do you find this so hard to believe?"

"It's a little odd," she admitted.

"It wasn't. And if your people knew anything at all about magic, then they would be doing so as well."

She shrugged non-committally as he wondered if maybe she kept going for his shoes because of an attraction to magic. It was an interesting thought. Someday he'd have to consider this further. "I'm serious, Zelda, ask me a question," he said again.

She hesitated. She knew she shouldn't ask him anything, shouldn't play his game. But she was, truthfully, very curious for a real answer.

"When this is over," she began, "and the Cloud's destroyed, what's the first thing you're going to do?"

He paused a moment, as though he were deliberating. Truth be told, he knew his answer long before she even finished the question. A part of him was tempted to lie, to concoct some outrageous story just to confuse her, but an even bigger part of him wanted to know how she would respond to the truth.

"That day, down in Castletown, when I went off to get supplies. You remember?" She nodded. "While I was away, I saw a girl. A redhead. She was tall, with brown eyes. I decided, then and there, that when this was over, I would find her. She would be the first."

Zelda just stared back at him. She couldn't say she was surprised, that that's the sort of thing he'd do, but there was something that alarmed her more. She knew the girl he had described. Her name was Karina and she could read and do some arithmetic. It was a rare talent and she was often sought after to balance accounts or read correspondence from distant relatives. Zelda had spoke to Karina before. She was timid and shy and afraid of the word "no". Zelda could imagine her being destroyed by Vaati in a matter of hours. Her eyes widened at the thought.

"You really are a lunatic," she told him, a bit of disgust seeping into her voice even though she tried to repress it.

"I shouldn't worry, princess. You'll have your chance, too."

"Get away from me," was all she said, and he smiled, pleased that he had finally upset her even a little.

"You're right. It is late. And pet, you haven't slept in how long now? Go to sleep." She wished that she could run from the room and get away from him, but there was nowhere to go. Instead, she merely slunk away a few feet to lie down on the floor. After a few moments, she went to close her eyes when suddenly a white light flashed around her.

She made to sit up, to run, until her head hit something hard. She looked around to see a semi-transparent white dome had formed around her. Pressing her hands to it, she realized that he had cast a shield around her trapping her. She looked at him questioningly.

He merely shrugged and whispered, "You need your rest. I want to be sure you don't wander off in the night." She turned away from him, confused, wondering where exactly he thought she would go.

She tried to make sense of the whole situation, but she had little luck. Finally, it seemed the pull of sleep was too strong, and she gave in to unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>Alright, so here is my apology chapter, which came out relatively quickly. Or at least, it seems relatively quick to me. Sorry again, about the long wait for the last one. I have nothing else really to say except that I'm very excited because the next chapter will begin the battle with the Cloud. And then, of course, the real problems begin.<p>

As always, read, review, enjoy, etc.

'Till next time

-Ornamental Reciprocit

PS: With this story approaching its end in a couple of chapters, I need to start thinking about what to do next. Any ideas? I've got nothing.


	10. Check

When Zelda woke up the shield was still around her. She looked around the the best of her ability, craning her neck within the confines of the small dome and at last located Vaati sleeping with his back against a wall. She pounded on the shield for a few seconds, but he didn't respond. She called his name. He remained asleep so she called him again, louder. Finally, she called to him a third time, almost shouting, before he awoke.

The time during the night, although it had helped her get over her initial revulsion, had only made her fury grow. "Vaati!" she shouted. "Let me out. Now."

He yawned infuriatingly slowly. She knew it was deliberate. "Why the hurry?" he asked calmly. "I should think you'd prefer to be in there."

"What?"

"Well, in there you're perfectly safe. The Cloud can't touch you. Considering what we're up against today, my guess is it would be infinitely preferable to remain inside the shield."

"I can make my own shield," she told him curtly. "When the time comes."

He dropped the shield around her, giving her space to sit up comfortably. Slowly, he walked closer to her. "The time is now."

She blinked for a moment before she understood his meaning.

"You mean we're going after that thing today?"

"Is there a reason to wait?"

"Well, we still need to recover fully from the last time, and..."

Without a word he took her right arm and held it before him. Quickly, he removed the bandages that remained from last night, and showed her the perfectly smooth skin. The burns left by the shadow creatures had all but disappeared. She froze in surprise.

"I told you last night that you were healing quickly."

"But not this quickly. That's not..."

"I imagine it's a benefit of your particular magical talents."

She shook her head in denial. "No, no. I've hurt myself before. I've never healed like this..."

"Then how should I know? The point is you're recovered." Experimentally, she stretched her arms. Her muscles were still sore. She poked her broken hand. It throbbed. She was definitely still injured. But the burns were gone, perhaps because they were magical injuries. She supposed that she should be thankful for small, if slightly alarming miracles.

"But what about you?" she asked, gesturing to the burns still apparent on his face and arms.

"I am fine to travel," he told her curtly. He gave a rough hand gesture for her to follow him towards the Cloud.

"But we need a plan," she begged, trying to change his mind.

"Zelda, we know nothing useful about this Cloud. We don't know how it works, where it came from, or why it's here. How exactly do you propose we formulate a plan?"

She sighed and gave in. She didn't know why, but she had expected them to wait for a time, like they had at the other campsites. They would plan strategies out. Practice her skills. Ensure that they were at the peak of their abilities before they dared brave the Cloud. Vaati had never hurried that process before. She wondered what had happened that had made him so impatient, and if it had anything to do with his outburst the night before.

"Alright, fine," she conceded. "Do we at least have an idea where we're going?"

"Since we haven't encountered a power source the whole time we've been on the outer ring, or seen any observable changes in the Cloud, my guess is its source is located somewhere on the inner ring of the building."

Zelda nodded slowly, trying to recall the exact set-up of his palace, as he had explained it to her. "So all we need to do is cross the bridge into the center portion and search in there?"

"That's correct."

She closed her eyes for a moment, reflecting on the enormity of the task before her. "Can I trust you to lead the way?"

"If you keep the shield up, I will handle navigation."

"Alright then." She laughed a little in terror. It was time.

As they approached the wall, Zelda realized that she was actually rather glad that he had decided to hurry them along. If the decision on when to leave had been left up to her, she suspected she never would have had the courage to go. The more she considered it, she realized that it was best they move quickly. Hyrule was no doubt panicking without the sun. And, if they waited a few more days, the Cloud would probably expand down to the land itself.

In front of her, the Cloud looked the same as it had that first day. She could still remember exactly how she had watched the black wall roil and toss, extending and then rapidly retracting little arms, as though the sunlight were too bright for it. The Cloud looked no less threatening for the times when she had successfully navigated through it. Now, this would be her last time entering the Cloud, no matter how he battle worked out.

She raised what very well might be her last shield around the two of them, watching the little wisps of golden color reached out and surround them. At last, she looked over to him. He kept his face blank and stony, but she guessed that he too was scared. "Ready?"

"Go," he said simply, and they both took a step forward, watching as the world suddenly changed for the artificial light of their campsite to the deep amber color of the Cloud. As she had expected, there wasn't an instantaneous reaction. That was good. It meant that they might get a bit of a head start on the Cloud, before it chose to try to kill them.

"Where?" she asked. He looked around, trying to get his bearings.

"Straight ahead for now. We should cross the bridge as soon as we leave this room."

They walked quickly, down the long, empty corridor, when Vaati halted abruptly. "There," he whispered, pointing off towards the corner of the room ahead of them. Zelda squinted and realized that the patch of darkness that she had mistaken for an ordinary shadow, was in fact one of the creatures.

It seemed to be resting, almost idly. She wasn't sure if this was deliberate, or if it simply hadn't noticed them. Without asking for advice, Zelda summoned a tiny, non-directional shield in the creature's vicinity. It looked up, confused, but didn't make a move yet. She waited one more second to see if the creature would respond before she suddenly sent a direction to the shield, making it outward facing, it's magic directly squarely into the Cloud. The creature leapt on it in a second.

Suddenly, the darkness was moving everywhere. Hundreds of shadow creatures leapt up from unknown, crevices all around the room, like rats pouncing on easy prey. She hadn't seen any of them before they moved. "Run," she whispered to her companion, and they both picked up their pace, moving as swiftly and silently through the mass as they could, praying that the little shield would be enough of a distraction. To be extra sure, Zelda cast a second small shield behind them, as small as she could make it, hoping to lure any remaining stray creatures to it, instead of to her. It worked apparently, because as they ran from the room, behind them the darkness was swirling in a mass of confused creatures, torn between the two sources of brightness and yet not collecting on their shield.

They burst through the doorway, and into a long, thin room of white marble. "This is the bridge," he whispered, as they hurried along it.

"How many rooms exactly are in this inner ring?" she asked, panting slightly as they hurried along, carefully checking the corners for stray shadow creatures.

"I don't know exactly. I've never counted." He paused for a second as he checked over his shoulder to see if they were being followed. "There are six floors."

"Six?" she gasped. "Oh goddesses." She didn't think that she could explore six whole floors at this rate.

"I'm hoping that the Cloud will have noticeable differences to it as we approach its core."

"And if it doesn't?"

There was silence for a second as he thought about it. "Maybe, the next time we come across shadow creature, you had better only make one shield. You might need to conserve your energy."

Her eyes widened a little, but they made it to the end of the bridge without incident.

"What now?" she asked, her voice squeaking a little as a perfectly harmless wisp of darkness floated past them.

"We search this floor, and then head for the stairs."

She nodded and they headed to the left. In the dim glow produced by the shield, she could barely see elaborate decorations and furnishings. At one point, she almost tripped over a brilliantly embroidered low sofa that had been gathering dust for hundreds of years. And yet, in the first three rooms, they encountered no more shadow creatures. Finally, as they were about to enter the fourth and final room of that floor, Vaati reached out and stopped her.

"I'm curious about something. Create a outward-facing shield in the middle of the room," he told her, adding on as a wholly unnecessary warning, "far away from us."

She did as she was told, without asking why. After all, she was largely certain that she knew.

The second that the shield flickered into existence, the room was filled with shadow creatures. They materialized from nowhere that Zelda could see and swarmed over the shield with ferocity. There were so many of them, she couldn't see the shield anymore, or even the inside of the room.

"Drop the shield, Zelda," he ordered, and she let the little shield in the room disappear. Within moments, the creatures had disappeared back into the unsettling but apparently harmless darkness.

"Do you know what this means?" he asked, as they backed away from the room, back towards we he knew the stairs to be.

"Those creatures are everywhere, all the time," she answered.

"Yes. They only manifest themselves under certain conditions, like when there's magic to be taken."

"But then why was that one creature manifested back past the bridge by itself? And why have they responded to our non-directional shield sometimes and not others?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "Come, hurry back to the stairs."

As she ran, she whispered, "It's almost like this Cloud is sentient. Like this is all deliberate."

At last, they found the staircase. It was an imposing, spiral creation, built in marble with impressive wooden banisters with gold inlay down both sides. But they didn't have time to admire it as they scurried up the steps, careful to check for any wayward creatures that might knock them down like last time. Still there was nothing out of the usual.

They searched the second and the third floors in the same way, but their searches yielded nothing. On both occasions, Vaati had had her toss a shield into a room to see the Cloud's reaction, and both times is was the same flurry of activity. But, besides the one creature they had found just outside their campsite, there were no other creatures floating about on their own.

Zelda did her best to ponder this as they struggled up the stairs once more. Just the creature outside their campsite. Suddenly, she had an idea. A small one, but an idea nonetheless.

"Vaati, do you think it was a coincidence that the one shadow creature we've found so far was right outside our campsite?"

He looked at her questioningly, with a sort of desperation that could only mean he was completely bewildered by their situation. "Why do you ask?"

"The creatures are almost humanoid. And when I first made the little shield, it looked up, just like a person would."

"So?"

"So, I think they can see."

"So what if they can see, Zelda? They're shadow monsters, I imagine they can do a lot of things."

"No, you don't understand. If they can see, that means they can watch things. I think it was there to watch us."

"And what if it was?"

"I don't know," she answered, "but I think that explains why the only place we've found any is right by the camp."

"But why haven't they followed us, watched us as we made our way through here?"

She breathed deeply for a few moments, trying to puzzle out what she had discovered. "Why did it have to leave a shadow creature to watch us? It must take energy and effort to create one of those things, so why leave one? I think it can only see when it takes the shape of a shadow creature. I think that means... when there aren't creatures around us, then the Cloud is blind to us."

Vaati froze for a for seconds as he pondered the possibility. "Maybe," he admitted, "that would explain a bit. But it also leaves a lot unexplained. Why not simply surround us with those creatures?"

"I don't know," Zelda whispered.

"Well, it's a possibility, but don't lower your guard just because of a possibility."

She nodded and together they searched the fourth floor. This time, Vaati didn't make her test the Cloud's reaction to her shield. Just in case you're right, he told her, and just in case one of them sees us.

Only two more floors to go, Zelda reflected, as they made their way towards the stairs once more. By then, she expected the Cloud to be situated squarely on the highest floor. It seemed appropriate. But, when they were halfway up the stairs, she realized that that might be wrong.

"There," she whispered, pointing out a single shadow monster, hovering lightly above the top step. I didn't seem to have noticed them, but she realized that they had stopped only a few steps short of being spotted. Vaati nodded his understanding, and the two of them shrank back against the woodwork to consider their next move. "How do we get rid of it?"

"Do you think we can risk creating a shield?" he asked.

"Maybe if we put it somewhere far away from us, where the shadow creatures who dive for it won't be able to see us."

"Like where?"

"Under the stairs."

"You think the Cloud will still be able to find it?"

"It's been able to sense the little shields even when there were no creatures about. It must have another way to detect offensive magic."

He nodded slowly, tossing the idea around in his mind. He didn't quite trust the girl's theories, but he had no better ideas. With extreme skepticism, he finally begrudged, "Alright, if you can do it. Get ready to run."

She crept up until she was standing hunched over, ready to sprint. Then, she built the tiniest shield she could manage under the stairs. She was very glad that she had practiced building shields that she couldn't see the day before. Suddenly, the dark beneath them was a tumult of diving shadows, each fighting to reach the sphere. Some creatures, amidst the fury, spilled onto the steps below them, but none of them seemed to notice the pair. At last, the reluctant sentry was distracted by the fighting and slipped into the chaos to try on its own to reach the tiny shield.

They ran, faster than they had ever ran yet until they were up the stairs and out of the room, and had safely shut the door. Only then, did Zelda dare release the tiny shield in the other room.

"Alright, Zelda," Vaati admitted, amazed that she had managed to navigate them through that, "I think I believe you."

"You know what finding this sentry probably means, right?"

"We're getting close."

"Yeah." Zelda looked around the little room they were in now. It seemed just as lavishly decorated as the rest of the palace, but it was too dark to quite discern its purpose. "You said that the Cloud probably drew its power from the spells in your palace, right?" He nodded, and she saw understanding flicker across his face.

"Of course. It would probably form somewhere where a lot of magic was concentrated. Quick. This way." He gestured towards a small wooden door in the corner.

"Where are we going?"

"Through that door. At the end of the hallway will be another door, through which is a personal laboratory, of sorts. If I needed magical supplies, I would head there."

She nodded her consent and the pair took off running again. Zelda panted as she tried to keep up. It felt so strange, to be this close to destroying the Cloud. The Cloud which had forced her to find the wind sorcerer, which had dominated the whole sky.

Suddenly a thought occurred to Zelda. She dug in her heels and halted immediately, calling out to Vaati to stop. He didn't here in time and collided with the wall of the shield, bringing the both of them to the ground.

"What did you stop for?" he asked, borderline angrily.

"If we're really this close, why aren't there more creatures set about to guard?"

"I don't know. Does it really matter?"

"I think I know why," she told him, slowly, trying to sort out the last of the details in her brain.

"Then enlighten me," he whispered, still slightly annoyed at her sudden stop.

"It's starving."

"Excuse me?"

"It's starving. The Cloud has started to starve since we first showed up here."

"What gives you that idea?" he asked. Although he still sounded angry, he was intrigued by the idea. A starving opponent was much easier to beat than a well one.

She remembered what Link had told her, that the Cloud now covered the entire sky. However, she was careful to keep her answer vague, so as not to alert Vaati to her previous conversation. "It expanded too fast," she explained, "by drawing a lot of energy quickly from the magic in your palace. But the power here was finite. It expanded so fast and now it can't support itself any more. It can barely even maintain a shadow creature. It's absolutely desperate for any kind of magical energy that it can use."

Understanding fell across his face as he looked at her. "That would explain a lot." He considered the two sentries they had found so far, each of which had abandoned their posts for a tiny sphere of magic. "I would never allow a sentry to leave a post for something like that," he whispered, "but if gathering magic is their absolute first priority, then it makes sense. Even for such a small amount of magic, if they couldn't afford to let anything slip by them. That explains why none of the creatures show up when there isn't magic around, and why they show up in such large numbers when there is."

"And why we've never seen as many creatures as we did that first day. The Cloud has lost a lot of energy since then," Zelda added.

They both were silent for a few moments, as they considered what this could possibly mean. "Do you think we can use this?" he asked her.

"I think we can."

"How?"

"I have an idea. An insane idea. When I say so, I need you to summon a shield around us."

He looked at her strangely. "My shields aren't strong enough against the Cloud, you know that."

"With any luck, you won't be fighting the Cloud. I just want it there, in case something explodes, or something like that."

His eyes widened as he looked at her. "Zelda, what's going to explode?"

"Nothing, hopefully."

"Zelda, I'm not moving, until you tell me what you're planning."

"There isn't time, Vaati. I'm tired. I'm beyond tired. I'm exhausted. If we wait much longer, I won't have to energy to pull this off, alright?"

"Then we can go back. We'll head back to the campsite and you can rest. Then, now that we know where this thing is, we can get here much faster next time, and you can fight it in much better condition."

"No!" she shouted. "It has to be now." She didn't mention that she knew how large the Cloud had gotten. If she gave it another day, it might absorb the whole of Hyrule. In the kingdom there were bound to be hundreds of magical artifacts that it could leach off of. If they waited another day, they might find it a hundred times stronger than right now. Who knows? They might have less than a day. Maybe hours. Maybe minutes.

"Zelda, this is insane," he warned her. He wasn't going to get himself killed just because she decided to play the reckless hero.

"No," she answered, "it isn't. I swear there is a perfectly logical explanation behind this that I just don't have time to explain. I am begging you, come with me. Listen to me this once, and I can fix this."

He blinked for a moment, surprised by both the conviction in her voice and the sudden desperation. For a moment, he was absolutely convinced that she knew what she was doing. In that moment he yielded to her and they rushed through the door and made their way down the hall. Before they were even half way down, he regretted his decision.

Although the door at the end of the hall was untouched, the shadows around it had morphed into a solid, black monstrosity. They formed strange shadows along the wooden surface and the walls around it, looking almost like patterns etched in charcoal. Zelda, however, seemed undeterred, rushing past them and throwing open the door before he could so much as shout a warning.

Inside of the room was worse. At the very center of his beloved study was a black mass, blacker than even the shadow creatures. It was a small spherical shape, extending tendrils throughout the room and crackling with strange energy. Even he couldn't quite identify what it was made out of, what sort of magic produced it. At that particular moment, he didn't really care. It didn't respond to their presence. He prayed again that Zelda's 'it was blind' theory was true.

Zelda, on the other hand, wasn't looking at the core of the Cloud at all, she was staring at what she really needed. Vaati clearly enjoyed an open, airy feel to his architecture. It wasn't surprising, given his particular talents. And so, predictably, on an entire side of the room was a large, three paned window.

In front of her, she summoned a shield. A non-directional shield, she made sure, so that it wouldn't alert any shadow creatures nearby. With all her might, she chucked it towards the window, and watched as the glass shattered.

"What did you do that for?" Vaati whispered, but Zelda was preoccupied. She thought back to the very first day, watching the Cloud from the outside for the last time. She remembered watching the tendrils dart in and out of the cloud, needing to gather enough strength before they could make any headway and thinking that it was as though the sunlight were painful. She hoped that that truly was a weakness and that she wasn't merely imagining what she wished to be true.

It was a gamble at best. "What are you planning?" he asked, loudly this time, staring at the core in front of them.

She only had a chance to whisper a two words back to him. Recalling her own personal trick, she answered, "mousetrap. Now."

He snapped his head around to look at her. He remembered the little trick that she had taught herself, putting two shields of opposite direction within one another. Putting an outward facing shield on the inside would lure the creatures to the tiny sphere, while putting an inward facing shield around it would keep them trapped there, pinned to the center. But how on earth was that supposed to help now? It was only when she summoned the first of the two shields that he realized what she had done.

She had reversed it. And made it much, much bigger. Instead of luring the shadows towards a center, she was going to pull them away from it. Away from the two of them. And away from the core.

Zelda pulled the second shield up in quick succession, taking a split second to admire her work. She had summoned the largest inward facing shield she could manage, its magic directed in towards where they and the core were situated. A humongous golden dome arose around them, too far away for Vaati to accurately judge its size, cutting straight through the body of the cloud as a whole, essentially isolating its heart. In a second thousands of desperate, starving shadow creatures had materialized and dived for the golden surface. With them, they dragged much of the substantial matter of the Cloud. Where once a hazy, dark fog like atmosphere had hung around them, the air was now clear, the shadows instead crusted in thick, concentrated chunks all along the golden shield.

She then summoned another shield, this time with its magic facing outwards, just inside of the other sphere. Although Vaati couldn't quite see through the thick black beyond the shields, he imagined that there was chaos as the shadows still on the outside clustered around the new magic. If he had to guess, he'd have supposed that the whole of the Cloud was now wrapped around those two shields.

Suddenly, Zelda revised her plan slightly. She took the inner shield, the one that with its magic facing outwards and, remembering the training she had picked up only the night before, switched it to a non-directional shield. The second she removed the offensive magic from it, the shadow creatures leapt onto the one outer shield, eagerly sucking on the power it provided. All of them were concentrated around one power source, the outer shield. That was perfect. Exactly what she wanted.

With a breath of relief, she released the outer shield. Suddenly deprived of the source of their power, the shadow creatures wandered for a second, bewildered. Then, with neither Zelda's magic to sustain them, and with the inner shield separating them from their core, they slowly began to dissipate. In a few minutes, for the first time in weeks, pure sunlight was streaming on the palace, and most importantly, through the window in their little room.

With barely a second left, Vaati remembered his job in the plan. He quickly summoned his own shield around them, protecting them, and allowing Zelda, with much relief, to drop her own. As she did so, she collapsed to the floor, conscious but unable to muster up the strength to stand.

Vaati watched anxiously as the sunlight streamed through the window, hitting the unprotected core of the Cloud. For a few seconds, nothing seemed to happen. He prayed that Zelda knew what she was doing. And then, the first crack appeared, a tiny glowing line in the surface of the core. And then a second. Then a third.

And then it exploded. Vaati's shield barely held up against the onslaught. The room around them was all but destroyed. As the bright light faded, he saw that even the walls had been damaged. Some even had holes in them.

Yet, as he looked around for any trace of the Cloud, or its core, he found nothing. It was gone.

At last, he looked to Zelda, who had managed to pull herself into a sort of sitting position. For a minute, he wanted to praise her, to congratulate her, dare he say it, to thank her. For a minute, it was almost a tender moment. Then, the euphoria faded, and a second emotion set in: humiliation.

How exactly had she been able to figure out so much, when he could manage so little? How had she, an amateur at best, led them past an enemy even he couldn't understand? How had he been so useless? Once these doubts occurred to him, others set in as well. There was still the hero at large. There was still the missing gem to find.

All of the sudden, the sight of Zelda sitting there, weakly smiling, looking almost like she might trust him, infuriated him. But he was smooth in his payback, as he suddenly realized, he now had the upper hand. The Cloud was gone. She had nothing to hold over him. She was his, now. At his mercy.

He had never been known for his mercy.

He knelt to the ground and took a seat beside the princess. She was still struggling to right herself, so he decided that he ought to give her a hand. It was the decent thing to do.

He with one arm he grabbed her shoulders and slid the other under her legs. He slowly slid her into his lap, leaning her head against his shoulder. If he had stood, he would have been holding her almost like a newborn child. She lay there, still, unable to find the strength to move.

Yet, even in her exhausted state, she could sense the subtle change in his demeanor, although he didn't show it on his face. He had turned dangerous. She pushed against him, as hard as she could manage, which was not much more that a gentle tap. She lifted her head up intending to get away, to rebuke him, anything.

He hushed her, pushing her head back against his shoulder again. Slowly, he stroked her hair, savoring her unwillingness to be there and her inability to fight back. "Rest," he whispered, mockingly, "you did a lot today. I've never seen a shield that big before. I must say, I'm impressed by how far you've come. This is what happens, if you were curious, when you work with me. I wonder how far your ancestor would have gone, if she had sought my assistance. With her natural talents and intelligence that you, forgive me, lack. She could have gone far."

Zelda was silent, trying to formulate a response. He took that as a sign to continue.

"Oh, dear, I believe I've offended you. I'm not sure why, did I not just say you did a fine job? Well, no matter, I think with time, you could have become as great as her. You still could, maybe. But that depends on a lot of things." Although his tone remained light and mocking, the threat was apparent in his words.

Oh, how she wished she could moved. How she wished that she had thought of a better plan that didn't expend all her energy. She wished that her brain wasn't slowing down, dragging her towards sleep. Maybe then she could have thought of something more to say.

"Vaati," she whispered, "please put me down." It was all she could manage, and it didn't do much. As she had expected, he didn't let go of her, but instead drew her closer. It was incredible, he realized, having this power over the girl who had bested him so many times before. This was the girl who mere hours ago had had him panicked for his life. Who mere minutes ago had performed one of the greatest feats of magic he had ever seen. And now, she was lying there, limp as a rag, where he was free to revel in the sight, the feel, the smell of her. All of which now belonged to him.

"Make me," was all he whispered, before he returned to stroking her hair. He held her that way long after she had fallen asleep. When he finally laid her down, he saw that the tears were still wet on her cheek.

He wiped one off with a finger and gently tasted it. It was salty on his tongue.

* * *

><p>Hey guys,<p>

Sorry for the long wait. School. And an extended power outage (four days- wooo!). Anyhow, I'm sorry once more about the confusing magical physics in this chapter. Let me know if you found it really, really impossible to understand, and I will try to fix it at a time when I am not falling asleep.

As always, read, review, enjoy. Umm... any other verbs that seem appropriate here? Well, if so, do them. If not... I don't know, maybe get some ice cream?

Till next time,

Ornamental Reciprocity


	11. Waiting Move

Soft. There was something soft beneath her. That was nice. Soft was definitely better than hard. It was warm, too. Warm, soft, dry. Those were the only thoughts Zelda managed to think before she fell back asleep. She didn't even manage to open her eyes.

The next time she woke up, she was a little more lucid. She managed to sit up a little, remove the covers from herself and toss them to the ground. She very nearly contemplated standing when her energy left her and she collapsed back to the pillow. Her eyes were shut before she was even aware of what she was seeing.

The last time she woke up, she didn't move. She barely even breathed as she took stock of where she was. The softness was must have been the sheets, she realized, gently rubbing her hand on the deep blue, silken fabric. And the blankets, too. She was covered again, somehow. And she was in a bed. A very large, very soft, very foreign bed. Suddenly, her brain roared back to life and she realized exactly where she was. It was his bed.

Of course, she didn't know if he actually used it or not, but she could tell, just by the feel of it, that it belonged to him. Who else would make a bed frame out of stone? Who else would need jewels in a headboard? She didn't need any proof to know that this must have been his.

She sat up as best she could, eager to escape the silken prison. In a strange way, she felt like a traitor to her own cause, that she had lain there so happily for what she could only assume must have been hours, but she shook her head and rid herself of the thought. She could hardly control herself when she was unconscious. She could hardly blame herself for that.

"Where are you?" She shouted at the empty room, as though hoping that he would appear at her command. There was no response. "Did you hear me? Get out here." Still nothing. This either meant that he wasn't here, or that he was just being contrary. She hoped it was the former.

Zelda tossed the bed sheets aside, scrambling away from them, untangling her limbs as she stood up. Immediately, she sat back down. Her legs wouldn't hold her weight. Her knees knocked together and her ankles wobbled before she even stood up fully. She experimentally tested her other muscles. They didn't seem to be faring much better. Her shoulders were sore, her neck could just hold up her head, and her arms might as well have been liquid. It was as though her whole body were rebelling against her, telling her to sleep again. Not even to pull the covers back over her, just to lay back and sleep, with her legs still halfway on the floor.

But her mind objected very much to this proposition. Now that she knew where she was, she just couldn't be there any longer. Better to lie on the floor. Steeling her nerve, she tried again, forcing her legs to straighten and her body to shift. It wasn't much more successful than the first attempt, although she did find herself vertical, albeit leaning heavily against the wall.

Zelda smiled in relief to be free, although she was now confronted with the rather urgent problem of finding another place to rest. She didn't trust her body to remain standing much longer. The room was a large, open space, with not much in the way of furniture. There was a single bookcase, although it was completely empty, and a small desk but no chair. One entire wall was occupied by huge, plate windows. She didn't have to check them to know that they were shielded. He would never leave something that obvious open. Besides this, there was only an unassuming, wooden door and a large wardrobe.

She smiled. That would do. She hobbled her way along the wall towards the wardrobe, leaning on the wall as best she could until she stood before it. It didn't have drawers or anything. It was nothing but a large box, bigger than anything she had seen before. She pulled open the doors slowly, careful not to lose her balance as they swung, and peered inside. It was empty, as she had expected. Perfect.

Carefully, she crawled inside, laying herself down at the bottom of the dresser, fitting herself into the dark, cramped space. With one hand, she closed the doors as best she could, so that only a sliver of slight shown in on her. At last, she closed her eyes in something close to peace.

Ever since she was a child, she had always appreciated closed, dark spaces. She had widely been informed that this was strange, but she had never stopped. A small space was easy to protect, and, if it was dark, that meant that you didn't have to see what was coming. It was the safest a person could be. And, she guessed by the huge windows in the room, this was also the closest thing to privacy that she was going to have in a while, possibly for the rest of her life.

As she lay in the darkness, a thought struck her. If Vaati was just being contrary, he would have come out by now. There was no amusement in surreptitiously watching a wardrobe, that's for sure. But he hadn't come, which meant he must have been out. She didn't know where. She didn't care. The only thing that mattered was that he wasn't there.

Which meant, if she were to contact Link right about now, there was almost no chance of being intercepted. It was her best chance. Now, more than ever, she needed to know her friend was prepared. It was time to put the next part of the plan into action. Pursing her lips as she concentrated, she reached out to find her friend. Contact didn't come immediately. Her breath hitched as she considered the possibility that he might be dead. But, then she remembered that she was now in the middle of one of the most formidable, magical objects in the sky, which was sure to cause untold interference. She tried harder, reaching out with all the power she could spare. When contact came, it was faint, but it was there. She breathed again.

"Link, can you hear me?" she asked, although she knew the answer already.

"I can." She smiled at her terse response. That was him, alright. Never a way with words.

"How does it look from the surface?"

"The sky is back."

"That's good."

"No, it isn't."

She frowned and, although she couldn't see him, she could picture the wrinkles on his forehead that meant he was well and truly distressed.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because I haven't finished yet."

"What do you mean?"

"The last gem. I can't find it."

She bit her lip as she considered the consequences of this statement. "Calm down," she entreated him, although a bit of panic was rising in her. "We know it exists. If anyone can find it, you can."

"I don't think I can. I looked where it was supposed to be and it's not there. I've asked everyone. I've been to libraries and historians. I've talked with every elder I can find and no one knows a thing. It's as if it just vanished."

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to steady herself so she wouldn't reveal her fears to him. He had enough of his own. "It's alright. You'll find it. I promise you, you'll find it. Where are you now?"

"In Castletown."

"Have you checked the palace library?"

"The guards won't let me in."

"Did you tell them I sent you?"

"They didn't believe me. Refused to open the gate."

"But they all know you!"

"They said it was too dangerous, at a time like this, to let that sort of knowledge run loose." She smacked her head against the wardrobe wall. Now they heighten security. Of course. Always a little too late.

"Alright," she instructed him. "There's a guard on the west side of the palace during the night shift. His name's Frederic Holloway. Speak to him. Tell him that the princess is very fond of white rose petals, and that her favorite dessert was chocolate pudding with rose petals sprinkled on top. Especially when he'd get a hold of it, because he'd always rearranged the petals on her plate into a face. Except one time, her mixed up the plates and some visiting duchess got the face plate instead. She threw a positive hissy fit and refused to eat any dessert that was looking at her. Afterwards, Frederic made me swore never to tell anyone who had rearranged the petals. It was our secret."

"Tell him all that?"

"All of that. He'll know that it came from me, and he'll know that I would never tell unless it was very urgent. He'll help you get in."

Link's response was slow in coming. "Even if I get in, even if this rose petal guy finds a way, what if the castle library doesn't have the information?"

"Then we'll find another place to go. One step at a time. Trust me."

"You know that I didn't like this plan to begin with?"

"Neither of us did."

"But I really didn't like it."

"It's going to be fine," she promised, lying as boldly as she had ever lied before. "I know it. Now listen. Vaati's out... somewhere... but I don't know when he'll be back. I should go. I can't risk him catching this conversation." I can't risk losing my only bridge to you, she meant to say.

"You mean you have to go now?"

"I should. We're in unfamiliar territory. It's best to play it safe. Not do anything that could set him off. But before I go, I have one favor to ask. If you have a minute."

"What?"

"Do you know this girl, Karina? She lives in Castletown. The redhead, the one who can read."

"Yes, a little."

"I can't explain, but I need you to keep her safe, alright? Get her out of Castletown. Or send her to the castle. Just watch out for her, please."

"Why?"

"Just do it. I'm begging you."

"I promise."

Zelda moved to say her last good-byes when a thought occurred to her. "Oh! And don't stay near her for too long alright. In fact, stay far away from her. In fact, find someone else to get in direct contact with her- maybe Frederic. You stay far away." She couldn't risk Vaati tracking the girl and finding him as well.

"Keep her safe but don't go near her." She could tell by his tone that he was confused.

"Just trust me on this."

There was a moment of silence from his end, followed by a reluctant, "I'll do it. Fine. What are you going to do?"

"Stall if I can," she answered bluntly, "But up here my moves are limited. The best I can do is maybe keep him distracted a little." Very little.

"Zelda," Link answered, "your first priority is to keep safe. Don't do anything that could make him kill you. Please, keep safe." There was a weighted pause.

"I won't," she promised, although she knew she had no power to keep it.

"You should go," he replied simply.

Zelda nodded, although she knew he could not see. "Good-bye. I'll see you later."

She cut of the connection and let her muscles relax. She still wasn't strong enough to be doing that sort of exertion, and the mental activity had left in her worse shape than when she had woken up. In spite of her fears, her need to keep thinking, her mind was slowly whirling to a halt. Her head sagged towards her chest. As the conversation ended, her energy faded, and she found herself dropping back into sleep, this time unable to fight it.

* * *

><p>He was not in a good mood. That much was clear just by looking at him. When he had to, he could conceal his emotions perfectly, but when he was alone, they tended to come out, and more often than not, come out violently. Recently, he had simply decided to vent his frustrations by destroying everything in sight, choosing to disregard the fact that everything in sight was, in fact, his own property. It was worth it, nonetheless, for the satisfying explosions and the joyful sound of debris whizzing through the air fast enough to break a person's neck.<p>

He was positive, at this point, that he had seen everybody there was to see in that putrid, little city. Everyone except her. The one girl he wanted to find, that redhead he had thought about for a while now. It didn't make any sense. She was just a girl, the same as any other girl, and yet somehow, she seemed to have disappeared. No one in Castletown knew anything about where the she had gone, or how she had gotten there, and quite frankly, it was infuriating. This shouldn't be so damn difficult. It had never been so difficult before, he was sure of it.

Walking quickly, he made his way to the only person he had left to see. The only person who he knew would either amuse him greatly or drive him into a homicidal rage, again. He wondered which it would be this time. It didn't take him long to reach Zelda's room. He knew his own palace intimately, but even if he hadn't, he would have been able to feel his way there by the sheer number of protective enchantments he had left on the room. He was never one to leave anything to chance. Even if the girl had the skill to grind the walls into dust, she still would never have escaped his webs.

This he knew for a fact, which is why he was very much perturbed to find that she was not in the bed where he had left her. Nor, for that matter, behind them door, by the desk, or hidden between any of the sparse furnishings. It was about the eighth place he thought to look before he found her in the wardrobe, sleeping yet again.

She had been asleep for nearly two days now. Sure, she had woken up a few times, mumbled things, drifted off again. Once she tried to get up, and he had had to put her back to bed. But now, apparently, she was mobile, or mobile enough, although he couldn't fathom what to think of her chosen bed.

Nonetheless, he didn't have the patience to let her sleep any longer. If she was well enough to walk, then she was well enough to wake. Without another thought, he kicked her, hard, in the stomach. She groaned and curled up, but woke up just the same.

She looked up at him, anger flashing in her eyes, but when she recognized his face it quickly gave way to fear. "Morning," he said, as casually as he could manage.

She didn't answer, but continued to stare, as though she couldn't quite collect her thoughts long enough to respond. He continued, in her silence. "Curious spot you've chosen. Most everyone would have taken the bed."

At last she recovered her tongue and her courage enough to give a simple reply. It was a calculated response. Not too quiet as to be submissive. Not too sarcastic as to be flippant. No risk. "It was too bright out there. Too many windows."

"Is that so?" he answered, plainly disbelieving but not in the mood to fight it. "Well, then, since you're up and about now, perhaps you'd like to get out of the dresser?" He took a step back to allow her room. Slowly, painfully, she struggled to her feet and took a few steps out of the dresser. The rest hadn't done her much good, and the second to let go of the walls of the wardrobe, she stumbled forward, barely regaining her balance. The pain in her stomach wasn't helping much either, and she stood hunched over with her head towards the ground.

It was pathetic, he thought to himself, she was pathetic. Worthless. Yet, in spite of these words, nothing could have pleased him more than to see her struggling there for balance, for air, barely able to stand even after two days of recovery. It was intoxicating.

So intoxicating, in fact, that he reached over and pulled her against him, allowing her to rest on his shoulder as he guided her back to the bed. "You look awful," he told her frankly. "Worse then you did before, even."

"Thanks," she muttered angrily under her breath. He stopped when he heard her.

"What was that?" he whispered. His grip tightened around her shoulders almost painfully as he stared at her.

"Thank you for helping me walk back," she corrected herself. Although her tone was less than respectful, he had to give her credit for improvisation. It was almost funny, the little attempts at resistance that she still put up. Good for his mood, so he would indulge her this once.

"Of course," he answered, as they finished up the last few steps and he helped her to sit down. "I'll bring you back here anytime you like," he told her as he gently rubbed the sheets between his fingers. Zelda nearly sprung for the bed again. She caught herself, however, knowing that she wouldn't make it more than three steps, even if he did nothing to stop her. Instead, she settled for keeping her face a perfect mask. At last, however, she was forced to ask a question that had been nagging her. "Vaati, what was the Cloud?"

He adopted an expression of mock confusion. "It was the large black thing in the sky that tried to kill us. Don't you recall?"

She kept her biting remarks inside, knowing not to upset him, to let him have his games. "What caused it?"

"What makes you think I'd know?"

"I thought that you would have investigated, is all."

"I did."

When he didn't seem inclined to speak further, she was forced to ask. "What did you find out?"

"A little."

"Such as?" she asked, careful to keep her eyes low, to seem weak (which, granted, in her current state was not hard). He was less likely to blow up if he thought she couldn't fight him. No less likely to kill her, but at least less likely to be angry while doing it. With a sinking heart she realized that those were the best odds she could hope for.

"Nothing I care to tell you." He gave her a smile that suggested that he in fact knew quite a bit. At the same time, his eyes had a hardness to them that warned her to let the subject drop.

After a moment of silence, he spoke again. "You know, I've been thinking. Do you have a plan now?"

"What?"

"I mean, I know that you've been thinking about this moment since the beginning. I'm curious to know if you've stumbled on any brilliant ideas recently."

"Do you think I'd tell you if I had?"

He laughed quietly to himself. "No, I don't suppose so. You people always have the strangest ideas about going down fighting. For what exactly? Honor?"

Zelda smiled grimly. "I'd give you all my reasons, but I'm sure you've heard them before. How many incarnations of me have you taken?"

He shot her a dark look but composed himself fairly well. "A few more than I care to think about." Although she looked straight at him, her eyes were unfocused. He had the distinct impression that she was looking at nothing at all.

"It's funny," he continued when the silence had festered too long.

"What is?"

"Looking back on the first time. The first Zelda." Zelda bit her lip as she sat there. She didn't want to talk with him. Not at all. But she also felt a strange curiosity as she heard him talk. Of course, she knew the stories, sort of. But a lot had been lost to the ages. Truthfully, the old legends had never really been of any importance to her. But now she had, here, a living relic. A living relic bent on her complete destruction, but nonetheless the only chance she had to learn about a past that she suddenly realized she was missing.

"What was she like?" Zelda asked quietly, gazing obstinately down into her lap. Nonetheless, she could see in her peripheral vision that he had begun to smile. She could only assume this was because he knew he had her hooked. After all, he didn't seem like he would have many fond memories of her.

"She was smarter than you."

"So you've said."

"And it's true. She had magical expertise even your best mages couldn't fathom. It wasn't enough to protect her, of course, but it was... formidable."

"Why did you go after her?"

"It wasn't her specifically, at first. It was something else. She got in the way and she suffered for it."

"What were you looking for?" She asked, still avoiding his gaze. He rolled head around and gave her a skeptical look, even if she couldn't see it.

"You don't honestly think I'd tell you, do you?"

"You've told me a lot more than I would have expected," Zelda mumbled into her lap. Suddenly, his hand was one her shoulder, near her neck. His fingers had a vice grip around her throat, but he wasn't applying a dangerous amount of pressure. Her head shot up in alarm.

"I've told you what it has pleased me to tell you. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Pleased you?"

He nodded slowly. "Indeed. There are certain facts that it's sort of amusing to look back on, now."

She didn't trust herself to give a response, not with his hand so close to her windpipe. Swallowing hard, she stared at him, waiting for him to say something or let go. Instead, he moved closer to her.

"It was an interesting idea that I had, back then. After that first time, I thought she might have been a decent adversary. It gave me some... strange ideas." He loosened his on her throat but kept his hand in place. Slowly, his fingers trailed absently toward her collar bone. "There was a time when I even thought I could marry her."

Involuntarily, Zelda jerked when she heard this. That she was not expecting. He may be more intelligent than she had expected, but by all accounts this was just a veneer. He was, at his core, a demon. And where, pray tell, had a demon gotten it into his head to do something like that? He smiled as he watched her reaction.

"You seem surprised. I don't blame you. I surprise even myself, looking back on it."

Although she could see in his eyes that he was elsewhere at the moment, and knew that it would be dangerous to disturb him now, she had to know. She had to ask or it would kill her wondering.

"So, you've changed your mind now? You don't want to do that anymore?" In spite of her best efforts, her voice came out a bit more hopeful than she had intended, a fact which he didn't fail to catch.

"No need to sound so disappointed," he answered sarcastically. He moved his fingers a little lower, just a fraction of an inch, this time on purpose, just to make her fidget. His fingers were cold where they met her skin and she repressed a shiver. "If you were really interested, we might be able to work something out."

"No," she shouted before she was able to control herself. Just as the sound left her lips she knew it was a mistake. Not only had she just played into his game, but she had risked setting him off. In spite of their time together, she didn't know much about him, but it didn't seem like it took much to anger him.

Fortunately, he seemed to take it in stride, as though he were more amused by the fact that he had needled her than he cared about the rejection or her distaste for him. "Really? May I ask why?"

"I-" Zelda managed to gasp out, but couldn't seem to think of the words to fix the situation. It was though her mind had gone blank and all she could think was that he was going to kill her.

"Don't want to make me angry?" He finished for her. She looked at him carefully, but couldn't quite manage to speak. "You can admit it," he said, "In your position, I can see why you'd be scared."

"I'm not-" Zelda began, but he cut her off.

"Yes, you are. It's alright, you can say it. Don't pretend." His fingers stopped caressing her collarbone and instead moved outward, until he wrapped a hand possessively around her shoulder. "You have nowhere to go. You're out of moves. You live by my decree only."

Instinctively, Zelda moved to back away from him, pushing against him arm in an effort to gain a precious few inches. However, her strength was still not back and her efforts were meager at best. Still, he was forced to redouble his hold a drag her a little closer to him just to keep her from frantically squirming away.

"Stop that," he told her flatly. "For a girl with nowhere to go you are awfully determined to get there. Or is it that you just want to be away from here? Where would you go? Do you intend to hide in the wardrobe for the rest of your life, which, by the way, won't be very long at the rate you're going."

"So you're going to kill me," she whispered, strangely relieved to know that that was his plan. Knowing was better than guessing. "I figured."

"I might," he said, shrugging, "but I was actually referring to the fact that you're still weak, and you haven't eaten anything in two days. I managed to coax a little water down your throat but that was it. Quite frankly, I don't think that your body would hold up under much more stress."

Zelda paused for a second as she considered his words. Now that she thought about it, her throat was quite dry. And she was feeling light headed. She had assumed that was because she was still exhausted, but the lack of nourishment could definitely be a contributing factor. She wondered how she hadn't noticed this before.

"So, you intend to feed me," she asked quietly, "and then kill me."

He glared a little as he detected what might have been sarcasm in her tone. Or possibly it was just confusion. It was so difficult to tell with this girl. "Again with the killing. You seem to think that I need to kill you right away, to cut the loose ends. But I think you're forgetting something. I have you in thrall in more ways than one."

She didn't answer, but she had a growing fear that she knew what was coming. "Remember the pain of the sword," he asked. "All I've ever given you is a temporary fix. But, here's what I didn't tell you. That fix that I gave you... I can take it away." It was a complete lie, of course. That sort of fix couldn't be simply shut off. Not that it would make a difference from her perspective. Whether it was the pain of the sword, or his own tortures, she'd scream just the same. Besides, his lie appeared to be working very well. She had gone even paler, a feat he didn't think was possible, and, in spite of her best efforts, a tremor had struck one of her hands.

"If you think this room is your prison, you'd be wrong. This room, this palace, the sky, we don't really keep you here. It's your own mind, Zelda, that won't let you escape me. Whatever you do, you'll always come back to me, begging for my help, in the end."

With that, he let go of her and stood up. "I would ask if you were hungry, but I know for a fact that you're starving. I'll get you something to eat, and then you will sleep again. Hopefully, that will put you right. If it doesn't, oh well. You have all the time in the world to recover. It's not like you have anywhere else to be."

Zelda watched as he left the room, but didn't bother listening for the telltale click of the lock. She considered briefly, making her way back to the wardrobe, hiding in there as some kind of act of defiance. But she discarded the possibility. She didn't think she could make it all the way there, and even if she could, she doubted it would help Vaati's mood much. Instead, she merely lifted her feet onto the bed and, despite the revulsion she felt, laid back. Although she was too awake to sleep, too many thoughts running through her mind, she shut her eyes and laid still, as though, if she kept perfectly still, she could make the world stand still with her.

* * *

><p>Okay, so for all of you who are thinking "What took so long and why is this unusually short?" I have to say, I'm sorry. This is life being stupid. And getting me sick and breaking my laptop and generally annoying me. Also, I learned how to ice skate and use an abacus (procrastination at its finest). On the other hand, for the rest of you, who probably haven't thought about this story since the last update, here is an interesting fact to justify you reading this author's note: In the Chinese Tang dynasty, anyone with an education was expected to greet as well as say goodbye to another person in poetic verse composed on the spot.<p>

I wish I could compose poetic verse on the spot. It would make life feel kind of like a musical, except without the singing bits.

As always, read, review, enjoy...etc

Till next time,

Ornamental Reciprocity


	12. Trap

In the silence, Zelda was acutely aware of the sound of her own breathing. It was a regular rhythm, in and out. In and out. Over and over again. It was calming, to listen to her own breath, like a form of meditation. Except her aim wasn't to clear her mind, but rather to focus her thoughts as best she could.

To her eternal shame, a part of her was whispering to accept the situation. Give in. This voice reminded her that she had given everything to try to save her country and had had almost no effect. The country deserved to fend for itself for a change. It softly whispered that if she stopped fighting now, he'd probably keep her alive. He was the type that liked to gloat. It would be a miserable existence, but she'd survive. It quietly extended the grim promise of life and secretly, Zelda wished desperately that she could take it up on the offer.

But the other half of her was insistent that she fight and die fighting. It didn't have a reason. It didn't promise her anything, not even a miserable existence. All it said was that this was what she always did. She fought. And this she must do for no other reason than she must.

For an argument with no basis in logic or self-preservation, it was surprisingly compelling.

But even if she fought, she had nothing to fight with. Barring lunging at him the next time he came through the door and trying to gouge his eyes out, there was almost nothing she could do. She needed Link. It was as simple as that. She needed her friend to bring the sword, an army, anything. She needed him to fight the battle that she knew she couldn't win alone. The whole thing seemed hopeless.

Suddenly, the eye gouging strategy didn't seem quite so bad.

She shook her head to get rid of this thought and tried to sit up a little. One botched attempt on his life and the whole plan would cave in. If she acted too rashly, that was the end. The fact of the matter was, she needed to get Link here, and in order to do that, she needed to figure out where the last gem was.

For the hundredth time she ran through all of the facts in her head, but there were too many mysteries for her to resolve. Somehow, though, one thought kept popping back into her head. She remembered how, before they had went into the Cloud, something had enraged Vaati. She didn't know what it was, but something had set him off. Something had happened when she opened her mind to him, something that left her wrists chafed and had made her struggle. She didn't know what had happened, but she couldn't shake the feeling that it was related, somehow, to the missing gem.

She thumped her head against the pillow in frustration. Those two incidents had nothing in common. She had no evidence whatsoever. It was nothing but a feeling, but by the goddesses that feeling was persistent.

She ran the events of those days through her head again and again, but there just wasn't a pattern. Every time she thought she had a lead, it vanished faster than she could think it through.

Finally, she remembered one tiny, insignificant detail, but it was the first real pattern that she had found and she almost leapt from the bed in delight. That night, before they went into the Cloud for the last time, wasn't the first time that she had found her wrists chafed like that. It had happened once before, the first time that he had helped her with the pain.

She cursed herself for being so stupid, that she had forgotten about that incident entirely. How had she forgotten that? It was possible that the chafing was a side-effect of the spell he had cast, but why would a spell that had to do with her mind cause injuries to her wrist? No, that was unlikely.

That meant that something else was the cause, something else had hurt her. And, whatever it was, it had happened twice.

She considered this new detail, trying to piece together the events of the last few weeks. However, as terrifying as the thought of repetition was, it shed no light on the truth of what had happened. She simply needed more evidence. There was no other way that she could put it together.

Finding more evidence meant that she'd have to investigate. That meant she would have to look around. Which meant she would have to get out of this room.

She knew full well that in her current state she couldn't go exploring on her own. Besides the relative impossibility of escaping the room, she wouldn't make it very far anyway until she had recovered some. At the same time, there wasn't time to waste with bed-rest. She needed to know now.

Maybe she could get him to let her out with supervision, get him to accompany her through the palace and see what she could pick up. She didn't expect that he would take her to the more sensitive areas, the places that where he had been doing his own investigation about the Cloud. But maybe, if she could just see a little bit of the palace she could put some of the pieces together or discover a few clues. At the very least, she might learn more about the general layout of the place for future exploration. Either way, though, she was going to have to convince him to let her out first. He liked to brag, she knew, maybe she could play on that.

She spent the better part of an hour scheming about how she could convince him. As she lay still, resting and thinking, a small part of her was beginning to get energized. She had deceived him before, she could do it again. A part of her wanted to jump up straight away and charge forward, but a better part of her reminded her to keep still.

He expected her, even wanted her, to be very weak, and she knew that she should play to this expectation, exaggerate her frailness. From what she had seen of him, he derived a strange kind of pleasure from having her absolutely dependent on him for even the simplest of tasks. He enjoyed having to help her walk, having to give her food, because it meant that he was completely in charge of all her actions. He liked to have her weak and to know she hated it. To know that he could squash her petty defiance on a whim at any moment. Perhaps, if she catered to this desire, she might be able to distract him long enough to get what she wanted. It was her best hope.

That left one option: she had to convince him that she was too weak to resist him, mentally or physically. She had to convince him that he could manipulate her, in order to manipulate him in turn. The only way to fight him, at this point in time, was to play the damsel in distress.

That decided, she stilled all her movements and closed her eyes as though asleep. When he finally came back into the room, she kept them closed. She heard his footsteps pause in the doorway and she was certain that he was taking a moment to simply watch her. That was just the sort of thing he would do. At last, she heard him approach and lay something down at the foot of the bed before he lay a hand on her shoulder. She was careful not to twitch under his touch.

She heard him drop to one knee so his face was level with hers. "Princess," he whispered, directly in her ear. She pretended to jerk awake. Her eyes widened in faux shock and she forced a gasp out from her lips. He smirked at the reaction. Apparently, her fear was convincing.

"I brought you something to eat," he explained. She took a moment to peer out the window and saw that the sky was beginning to turn red with sunset. How long had he been gone exactly? Where had he gone? She doubted there was any food left in the palace, and if she had to eat another strip of dried meat, she thought she would vomit in disgust.

Instead, he gestured towards a simple meal that he had laid on the bed. It was a plain piece of bread, but it was accompanied by fresh fruit and a small bit of cheese. To her, it was the most amazing bit of culinary genius that had ever graced her presence. In spite of herself, her hunger roared full force.

More than anything, she wanted to leap forward and grab at the food, but she saw before her a golden opportunity. If she was going to act weak, she going to have to do so whole heartedly. She jerked up to reach the food and pretended as though she was hit by a sudden wave of dizziness, forcing her to lean back down with her hand on head. She heard him chuckle at this development. With great concentration, she forced herself not to glare. She was acting weak. It was all an act. It would win her the upper hand.

At last, the humor in the situation apparently lost interest to him, because he extended a hand and stacked a few pillows next to the headboard. He reached over and, grabbing her shoulders, helped to pull her into a sitting position. His touch was more gentle than she expected, but the malevolence of it all was apparent. She groaned and tried weakly to move away from him, as though she were uncomfortable but lacked the strength to do anything about it.

Finally, satisfied that she was upright, he took a seat himself on the edge of the bed and reached for the plate. She automatically held up her arms to take the plate from him but he pulled it back.

"You shouldn't eat too fast," he warned. She nodded her understanding.

"I won't," she promised, although slightly confused.

"No," he answered. "You won't." With one hand he ripped off a small piece of bread and held it out to her. She looked at him in confusion, wondering why he didn't trust her to cut up her own food, but reached out to take the smaller piece anyway. He pulled it back again.

Suddenly, she realized what he wanted. She tried not to glare. She honestly tried, as hard as she could, but some of her malice worked its way onto her face. What he wanted... it was humiliating to say the least. It was infuriating. It was exactly what she should have expected him to do and yet that didn't calm her any. For a moment, she almost leapt at him. Almost. Weak, she reminded herself. She had to act weak. It was the only way to conceivably get close enough to him.

Even knowing that, though, didn't make her any happier. He simply smiled calmly, watching her internal struggle, not fully aware of the difficulty she was having, but very much conscious of her anger. At last, she managed to control herself, at least enough not to scream insults in face, which was progress for her, he believed. He thought it was fear.

Finally, he dropped her hands and opened her mouth just wide enough to let him insert the piece of food himself. She grimaced as his fingers grazed her lips and her tongue, just ever so slightly, but took the food anyway. Her hunger was stronger, she realized, than even her revulsion, a fact to which he apparently had caught on.

This did not bode well for the future.

He tore off another piece of bread and offered it to her, smiling as she reluctantly accepted it. He thought that he could see a fire in her eyes that she was working her hardest to suppress. At last, she opened her mouth again and accepted the next piece.

Zelda took three more pieces this way, before her temper threatened to get the best of her. She began to chant the words 'act weak' in her head, trying to remind herself not to reveal the rate of her recovery. She had to prove to him that she wasn't strong enough to resist. It was the only way. Under the blankets, she found herself clenching and unclenching her fists, trying to keep her anger under control.

Finally, she realized that she wasn't going to be able to control herself much longer. The sight of his face alone was infuriating her beyond anything she thought possible. He was enjoying this far too much and she loathed him for it. When he went to feed her the next piece, she held up a hand to stop him and screwed up her face in a look of false pain, her other hand clutching at her stomach.

He seemed to understand the message because he let the bit of food drop and reached for something on the floor that she couldn't see. Finally, his hand resurfaced, carrying a small cup of water. He held the cup up to her lips until he persuaded her to take a few sips. She accepted the water willingly enough, but nonetheless hoped that he would get the hint and leave her alone. Instead he waited patiently as the minutes ticked by, watching her pretend to suffer from cramps until she finally realized that he wouldn't leave until she was finished eating.

Grimly, she faked a slow recovery and set about the ordeal of eating again. It was a long process. In order to keep up the charade, she was forced to take pauses every now and then as though she were in pain. Her acting was apparently convincing, because she had never seen him smile so much in one sitting. Once, in a moment of inspired acting, she choked a little on the water he presented to her. She was sure she heard him laugh. She was careful not to look, though. She was having a hard enough time not punching him in the face as it was.

The gouging his eyes out solution was starting to look very, very appealing right about then.

It took longer than expected to finish the food, but Zelda had never been happier in her life to finish eating. Zelda's heart beat began to quicken. Now that the whole, humiliating ordeal was over, it was time to try to get the payoff. She only hoped her acting had been good enough, and that he believed that she was as frail as she pretended to be. When the last of the food was gone, he offered her the water cup one last time and, although she was not thirsty, she accepted it.

Slowly, she let her eyelids begin to drift closed, as though the process of eating alone had exhausted her. He reached out and gently petted the side of her head. She groaned and turned her head away, weakly, but it did nothing to stop him.

"You must be exhausted," he whispered. "You should rest."

"No," she whispered softly.

"Oh?" He asked. He disliked being told 'no' generally. The girl's seemingly endless defiance had infuriated him to no end over the years. But if it came with such desperation in her voice, he wondered if it could really be called defiance, or if it was the first cracks appearing in her facade.

"I can't. Not now. Don't make me."

He hushed her softly, running a hand over her head. She whimpered under his touch. When he smiled at this, Zelda gave herself a mental congratulations before reminding herself that he task was far from done.

She swallowed, hard. Now was the time. Carefully, she turned her head in his direction, trying to keep her face a mask of tiredness. With a weak voice, she asked, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Hmm?" He took his hand away and looked at her inquisitively. The way he sat up straight and looked directly into her eyes, the way that his voice lost a little bit of the playful edge- for a moment she was positive that he had seen through everything and knew exactly what she was trying to do. But, she also knew that if she didn't press this opportunity now, there was not going to be another chance. He'd expect her to get stronger as the days went by, so she had to show him that she was at her weakest now and make him take the bait.

"You said you might kill me," she began. He grunted his agreement. "But that means you also might not." At this remark, he smiled slowly and leaned back a little appraising the girl.

"Bargaining already?" He laughed quietly. "What is it, exactly, that you think you have to offer me?"

She shook her head slowly. "It's not that. I don't have anything. I just wanted to know... are you going to kill me tonight?

"Tonight?" He paused for a moment as though he were considering it. "I hadn't planned on it." The playful tone came back into his voice, but it was harder now, forced. She could have sworn she heard a level of suspicion creeping into his voice. Suddenly, she wasn't sure how to proceed.

"I was wondering... it's just...I can't stay in this room much longer."

Any trace of humor in his face drained instantly. He snapped. His glare was so intense she felt a small need to recoil. His hands were on her shoulders suddenly, and she felt him hold her down. If she hadn't been already leaning against something, she was sure she would have been thrown down. He was squeezing so hard that his knuckles had turned white and his nails left little crescent indentations in her skin. His breathing suddenly came short and fast and it took him a while before he could control himself enough to speak. "What are you trying to pull?" he panted, his rage apparent.

"What do you mean?" She asked as innocently as she could. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out what had triggered this reaction.

"You've been awake for five hours. Five hours. You expect me to believe you've can't take another moment in this room after five hours? What kind of idiot do you think I am that you can lie there all helpless and I'll believe any words that come out of your mouth? Is that what you think of me?"

Suddenly, she understood what had happened. He had thought that she was breaking. He had exulted in it. And now, that he believed it was a lie, it infuriated him. What she was watching was probably thousands of years of hatred that she had brought to the surface, all of the frustration of all of those defeats brought to light at once.

She knew, as one of his hands moved up towards her neck, that if she didn't act quickly, she was going to die.

He was going to kill her.

This realization, strangely, brought a bit of clarity to light. It was with unusual presence of mind that she decided she needed a lie, a big one. Something that could pacify him, convince him. But, as they say, the best lies are grounded in truth.

It came to her suddenly, the one lie, rather, the one slightly embellished truth that could save her life. An old memory, a powerful nightmare, something she had tried so hard to forget. Something she had cursed and cried over. And now it might be her salvation.

His hand was wrapped around her throat, and if he pressed down, just a little harder, he could crush her windpipe entirely. If he did that, he could simply let go of her and watch her suffocate on her own, her ruined throat unable to pull air through it. He could laugh as she was wracked with spasms, as her body rebelled against itself, fighting for precious oxygen. Her eyes would beg when her voice could not. Her hands would grab at his, dying for relief, for salvation. And he would laugh.

He was almost certain he would have done it, too, if she hadn't managed with her last breath to gasp out, "Please, that wasn't what I meant."

"Oh?" he asked, with a pleasantly surprised tone, even as he swung one of his legs over her form and straddled her, readjusting to get a better grip on her throat. He brought his face so close to hers, that she could feel the ghost of his breath on her cheek. "Well, that makes it alright then. You may have been scheming to destroy me, but if you were inarticulate about it, that makes it perfectly fine." Still, he loosened his grip enough for her to get a few more gasping breath in.

"I meant, I can't stay here...sleep here. Not here. Not alone."

"Alone?" he asked. There was insanity in his voice when he spoke.

"It gets so much worse when I'm alone," she whispered.

"What?" His voice was dripping with hatred, but, in the last piece of his mind that was still rational, he listened anyway. In spite of everything, the man had an insatiable form of curiosity, usually known as greed. He hoarded knowledge, hungered for it. After all, it was knowledge that gave him his power in the first place. If there was a story to be found, or a piece of his eternal enemy to be discovered, he needed to know it. It wasn't until later, usually, that he would exploit it.

"The... I don't know what it is... a vision, maybe?"

The words hit him, slowly bringing him back to reality. She watched as some of the blind rage began to fade. Not much, just enough that he wouldn't slaughter her then and there. At last, he slid, his hand down from her neck. It was a slow movement, as though his rational side was clicking back into place bit by bit. At first his hand shook as he tried to move it, but finally, it began to slide, tracing a path all the way from her neck down to her ribs, where he let it rest.

Still, he didn't make a move to get off her, remaining where he sat on her stomach, with one hand still holding onto her shoulder. He leaned over her, carefully watching her face as she looked up into his. It was a strange feeling. His anger wasn't gone, not by any means. But he pushed it down, feeling it pulsate beneath his skin, feeling it ripple from his fingers with every movement.

And yet, he realized, he didn't want to kill her any more. No, the thought of her body, her blood, suddenly seemed like such a waste. He didn't want her dead.

He wanted to own her.

And with that realization, he suddenly knew why he wanted to hear the story so badly. Owning her meant owning her secrets, too. He would know everything there was to know about her, gladly. But if she tried to lie to him again, this time... he might restrain himself before he killed her, but he knew that the time she would spend lying helpless in that bed was far from over.

"What is this vision?"

"It's... kind of a long story," she answered meekly.

He shrugged. "You're not going anywhere."

She swallowed hard at the implied threat, and tried to compose herself. "They were dreams at first. I was just a child, I didn't know how to control them. Traditionally, when a child in my family is born, the first shields wrapped around their mind are made by the most trusted mage in the court. But those shields can only protect against invasion from the outside. They can't defend you from what's on the inside, when your own mind turns against you."

He turned the words over in his mind, skepticism plaguing his thoughts. It was a well known fact that the descendants of the first Zelda were prone to having visions, often in the form of vivid dreams. In fact, it was common knowledge. That meant her story, so far, could be true, but it could also be an absolute lie, fabricated based upon the few facts that had managed to stick around from the old legends. His grip tightened on her shoulder just a little and she swallowed hard, before continuing.

She nodded slowly and began again. "Eventually, I explained my dreams to my father and my friends. They were concerned, naturally. You know the story, I'm sure. Girls in my family sometimes..."

"Prophetic dreams, I know," he interrupted curtly.

"Yes. Except, when I explained the contents of the dream, they calmed right down. Told me to forget about it. It wasn't a real problem. Because the dream didn't spell doom for Hyrule. It only promised hell for me."

This got his attention. This definitely had his attention. A personal hell for the princess? He could picture such a thing. In fact, he intended to bring such a thing to pass himself. But still, what could the princess possibly have dreamt up that would be so terrifying to this day?

"I remember the emptiness. That was it. Just emptiness. I didn't know that nothing could be so terrifying. Every night, I would feel the emptiness, and I couldn't even prove to myself that I existed. But, I supposed, you can't suffer like that unless you exist, can you? I was pin wheeling through nothingness. Feeling like I was everywhere, and nowhere, and every night trying to scream but I couldn't. I just couldn't. It was the most wretched feeling I have ever had. Worse than fear. Worse than pain. I can't explain. It was like I was out in the open but experiencing nothing. Quite simply, I was trapped."

"Imprisoned, would probably be a better term," he answered bitterly. She froze for a moment, wondering if she had gone too far, but then nodded.

"You know exactly what I mean, don't you?"

When he looked at her, his eyes had a hardness to them that was different from what she had seen before. It wasn't the hate, or rage, or even jealousy. It looked like a sort of bitter acceptance of the facts. "Continue," was all he said. She picked up again, nervously.

"Anyway, I got older. I began to study my magic and eventually, I came to be able to repress the dreams. I almost forgot about them, even. Convinced myself that they were nothing but nightmares. By all accounts, Wisdom's abilities only awaken when the country is in danger, not the girl herself. There was no reason why it should mean anything. I pretty much had myself believing that.

"That was before I came to get you out of the sword. Before I went into the sword. I'm sure you know what I'm going to say now. That feeling, in my dreams, that emptiness. That was exactly the feeling inside the sword. I'm sure of it. My dreams were warning me of that day, but I don't think it was just about that day. I think my dreams were telling me that my fate...well it will be unpleasant."

His face was dangerously blank as he considered her words, but his mind was reeling. Could this be true? No, there was no way. But if it was, could she really believe that?

"You think your destiny is to end up imprisoned in that blasted sword forever?" he asked, half in disbelief.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "I'm afraid of it."

He nodded slowly. "I'm sure." For a moment, a heavy silence hung between them. At last, he let go of her shoulder and leaned back. Then, with deliberate slowness, he rolled off of her, to lay down beside her. The quiet rustle of the fabric sounded as loud as a thunderclap to the girl and she winced a little at the noise. He continued to stare at her, but he didn't attack. That was good. Still, she didn't dare move even an inch, or breathe a word, until he gave her permission. She wasn't a weak girl, but she wasn't stupid either. Now was not the time to risk anything.

"You never told me this before."

"It's worse when I'm alone," she answered. "I haven't been alone since this whole thing started. I don't like it. It brings back the feeling of being the only thing around. Forever."

He considered this for a moment. She watched as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. For a moment, she felt her stomach clench as she wondered if he decided she was lying. She braced herself for the moment when he would turn on her again. Instead, he simply nodded his head a few times and gave her a curious look.

"Does this have anything to do with why you were sleeping in the wardrobe?"

She blinked, trying to keep her surprise from her face. She wasn't sure how he had arrived at that conclusion, but figured that it might work to her advantage. Quickly, she improvised an explanation that she thought sounded plausible. "I like small spaces. They're comforting, like the walls are reaching out in an embrace. They remind me that I'm in the real world. "

"You know, I find this hard to believe."

She shook her head slowly, squeezing her eyes shut in preparation for death.

Instead, he continued to watch her until she opened her eyes again in surprise. Then, in the calmest, quietest tone he could manage, he asked her, "But, if you feel so strongly about noy sleeping here, alone, then perhaps you would accept my company tonight?"

Words simply refused to come out of Zelda's throat. She couldn't make them. In a moment of dumb silence, all she could wonder was how she had gotten here. What had happened? How? She simply couldn't make sense of it all. She wanted to refuse. She desperately wished she had some way to turn him away without revealing her whole scheme. She wracked her mind for an answer, any answer.

Instead, all that came out was a whispered, "Thank you."

He heard her thank him. The two little words were unmistakable. He blinked slowly, trying to understand it. She had thanked him? Now he knew it was a lie. He was sure it was a lie.

He was almost sure it was a lie...

...

He didn't know.

This conversation was certainly taking a turn for the strange. He was not a fan of strange. He liked control, absolute control. The very idea that such simple words, words spoken under the threat of death, could create such confusion was laughable, and yet his mind was reeling. It wasn't possible. It just wasn't possible. The princess never suffered in the end. That was never how it worked before. Then again, he had never had her the way he did now. That wasn't how it worked. And yet, there she was, lying beside him. The last gem was safely secured in his own palace and she was his.

He couldn't imagine how it could possibly be true, and yet nothing had happened so far like he had expected it. And this would explain a lot about the pain of the sword that afflicted her. There was just a slim sliver of doubt. Just enough. Just enough that it might be true.

And if it was true? What did that mean then? Would she take his place in his prison? Or would he wind up with some company if the sword took him again? For the first time in a long time, he found himself reminiscing on his own questionable mortality. He couldn't be killed. His body could be destroyed, but his soul was forever bound to the sword. Every time he was destroyed, his soul was drawn back to his prison, where he would gain strength and rebuild.

He was endless. Those fools who first sealed him had no idea what they had truly done. They may have put him away for a few brief moments, centuries even, but they had also made sure that he would return, forever. But, if the girl was bound with him, what did that mean exactly? Would she be dragged back to the sword with him? Or would she remain as his link to the outside world?

Or worse, could she somehow destroy him?

This sort of magic was beyond what even he was used to dealing with. The possibilities were endless. Beyond endless. If he could exploit it, then maybe this opened the key to a whole new world of power. If he couldn't... well, he was dealing with forces he didn't understand. There were many ways to get burned. After all, that's exactly what the girl tried, and look what happened to her.

Then, he chastised himself, taking care to remind himself that he didn't know if she was telling the truth or not. It could all be a lie. Admittedly, an elaborate lie. An elaborate lie that hit scarily close to the truth. These thoughts whirled through his mind as he tried to piece together the facts.

All in all, he wasn't pleased. It wasn't that the news was all that horrible. In fact, it could be the greatest thing that had ever happened to him. And yet, it introduced a level of doubt that he hadn't expected and couldn't have prepared for. If confusion was part of the girl's plan, she was doing a very job of it.

He looked over at her again. She was lying stock still, as though she had no idea what to do next. He supposed that he must have caught her off guard with his offer to stay the night. That much was good at least. But it wasn't quite enough. Whatever it was the girl was thinking, and she must have been thinking something, he wanted her to know that she wouldn't be escaping anytime soon. He wanted to be sure that she knew her master.

In his experience, there was one very easy way to do this.

With care, he snaked an arm under her waist. She jerked and tensed, her entire body rigid, even as he dragged her closer towards him. She didn't move easily, because her body refused to bend, staying stiff as a metal rod, until he was actually forced to slide closer to her some. She still didn't move. At last he wrapped his other arm around her into an embrace.

He could feel her trembling beneath his hands, yet, in some sorely misguided attempt at poise, she kept her eyes focused on the ceiling, and her face as calm as possible. But he could read her terror in her stiff shoulders and straight back. When he looked down at her legs, she saw that she had crossed her legs at the ankles and kept her knees pressed tightly together. He almost laughed, wondering if she had done that intentionally or if it had been a subconscious response. After all, she didn't even seem to notice what she had done.

"Relax," he whispered to her, and she shuddered involuntarily. "I know I can be... capricious at times. But don't worry. I won't hurt you tonight, I promise."

'Tonight' being the operative word, Zelda thought to herself, although she didn't say it. And, of course, that also depended on his definition of hurting. There were definite grounds for deliberate misinterpretation there.

"And I've been thinking about something." She still refused to look at him. "You're going to want to pay attention to this one. It was your idea. And if you want to find out, you're going to have to talk to me."

At last she took the hint and swiveled her head to face him. In the light of the fading sunset, he thought he saw tears in her eyes. Excitement bubbled through him at the prospect. It was so easy. This part, at least, was so wonderfully simple.

"Your idea about leaving the room. You remember?" She nodded tersely, as though her stiff neck would only allow her an inch or so of movement. He decided that that wasn't good enough. "Say it."

"I remember," she whispered.

"What do you remember?"

"I remember that I asked you to take me outside."

Not quite the most accurate phrasing, but good enough. "And did I agree?" He led her on with short sentences, demanding that she give simple answers for no other reason than he could. It didn't really help his goal, but he always enjoyed when he could make them follow his every instruction.

"No," she answered. Zelda wanted very badly to look away, but she couldn't quite bring herself to do it.

"No, I didn't. But I think I've changed my mind. I've realized that there is something, outside of here, that I'd like to show you. And, if you're feeling up to it, I can take you there tomorrow."

Instead of joy, Zelda felt only confusion, panic. Why the change of heart? What could he possibly be planning? He wouldn't do this just to show off, not after everything that had happened today. Whatever it was, it had to be important.

"You didn't say thank you," he reminded her.

"Thank you," she parroted back, not really considering her words. She was too busy trying to quell the terror in her.

"You're most welcome. But remember, this offer is conditional on whether you feel up to it. So you should probably get some rest." With these words, he pulled her closer, using one of his hands to draw her head towards his chest. "Just close your eyes and relax." And, yet, her eyes didn't close. She didn't even seem to notice or care what he was doing. It was evident that she was distracted with her own thoughts. This annoyed him, strangely.

He would have to go one step further, then.

Shifting his weight onto his elbow and lifting himself just above the girl, he brought a hand around to her face, resting it on her cheek until she turned accidentally to face him. He waited for a moment until he was positive he had her attention. He waited just long enough for her fear to begin to materialize. And then he kissed her.

It wasn't long, or hard, or passionate. It was barely more than a touch. Yet, he could tell by her face that she had received his message. It was a declaration of ownership, no more, no less. A reminder that she had nowhere else to go and no way to get there. She belonged to him, and, if her story today was true, she belonged with him as well.

"Goodnight, Zelda," he said. His voice was quiet but firm, and as he leaned back, bringing her down with him, she understood the message and the hidden threat if she chose not to comply. She closed her eyes and resigned herself to a long and difficult night. His hand pushed her head back onto his chest and she leaned against him, unwilling to be there and yet too scared to move.

She tried not to shake. And yet, a small part of her wondered if this couldn't be considered a victory. He was taking her outside. It just didn't come in the form she had expected. Maybe, it would all work out. If he wasn't planning something too horrible.

Just maybe she had a chance. She felt her head move in time with his breathing, a reminder of his proximity. Or maybe she didn't.

Her dreams were equally full of terror that night that she had no idea she had slipped into sleep at all. By the time she woke up, she was half-convinced she had been awake the whole time.

* * *

><p>Okay, bit of a long wait, but I hope I make up for it by making it extra long. Those of you who read my other stuff (hooray for the round-about two of you) know that I've been struggling with hero-villain interaction (I hope that I have un-cerealified them successfully (extra hooray for any of you who know what that means)).<p>

Alright, parenthetical asides aside (OK, that was bad) I hate hero-villain interactions, which is why this was kind of a stupid idea because this story is all hero-villain interactions. Not my finest decision making moment there.

So, I fought with this a lot. I mean, a lot a lot. Especially because I got a comment from a friend that I need to try to do things, quote sexier. This concept confuses me, so, after a few horribly heavy-handed attempts, I opted to do the next best thing, which is violence. Close as I get I'm afraid. So I hope you all enjoyed the preceding violence.

There's a sentence I never thought I'd say.

Anyhow, I am hoping beyond hope to be able to put another, much more plot filled, although slightly shorter, chapter up in the next few days. I have it all planned out. It just comes down to whether or not math homework decides to make an ounce of sense this week. Here's hoping. Wish me luck.

Oh, one more thing before I shut up. The way this is going, it looks like it might not quite wrap up neatly. Would people prefer a few ambiguous loose ends or a sequel? Or would they prefer really awful quick attempts to tie all the loose ends together? It can be done, but it might not be pretty. I don't know, I'll try my best. Thoughts would be desperately appreciated.

As always, read review, enjoy.

'Till next time,

Ornamental Reciprocity


	13. Sharp

Vaati was still asleep when Zelda woke up and she thanked every deity she knew of for that small grace. The light was bright now, and she could tell that it was late in the morning. She could see the sun hanging bright in the sky through the large, plate glass windows. How long had they slept? It must have been more than a few hours. It amazed her that she had stayed unconscious so long when her sleep had been so fitful and disturbed. Vaguely, she could remember bits and pieces of her dreams, monsters and demons, screams and darkness, but nothing coherent. She looked over at her companion. His face was calm and his breathing slow. Although his clothes were wrinkled, even in his sleep he gave off an air of practiced unconcern. Apparently he was not troubled by dreams the way she was.

Just as well. The deeper sleep he was in, the better for her. This morning, she realized, was her chance to begin investigating. She had to know what Link had found out and she had to know now. She just prayed that Vaati would stay asleep long enough for her to finish.

Taking care not to move and possibly disturb him, she squeezed her eyes shut and focused as hard as she could, determined to get through quickly. The result was stronger than she anticipated, and the sudden influx of noise from Link's end made her gasp in shock and pain. Taking a moment to find her equilibrium, she quickly asked for a status report.

"What did you find out?"

"Nothing from the library," he answered tersely. Somehow, it seemed like he could sense her urgency from the surface. He spoke unusually fast and his words blurred together as he tried to force them all out at once. "But I spoke to a woman who had just come to Castletown. She said that she had seen something about the gem and journeyed to the Castle to report it." Zelda could tell that there was more to this story, but didn't press for details, glad that Link was filtering it to the bare essentials.

"What?"

"She said that she lived not too far from the cave where the gem was kept. One night, a few weeks ago, she saw someone enter the cave."

"Who?"

"She didn't know, but she described him as 'swooping down like a bat'. He somehow blasted his way in through the top of the cave and exited straight through the ceiling again. She didn't know who could have been capable of this."

"I take it you know?"

"I think you do, too." She nodded even though he couldn't see. It had to be Vaati. Who else would want the gem? Who else flew, for that matter?

"So Vaati took the gem, what does that mean?"

"My guess is he hid it somewhere."

"But where could he possibly have hidden it?"

"How would I know? He could have left it anywhere." Link answered. His voice was suddenly raw and scratchy and Zelda flinched when she heard it.

"No, he wouldn't have left it just anywhere..." Zelda answered slowly, ideas forming in her mind.

"Well, not just anywhere, but that still leaves hundreds of perfectly secure hiding places anywhere in the world."

"No," she replied, "No, it doesn't. Remember, when he took that thing, he didn't know how long we were going to be up here dealing with the Cloud, right?"

"I suppose."

"Which meant, for all he knew, you could have had months, maybe more to try to find that gem while he was sitting useless up here."

"So?"

"So, he would have put it somewhere he was sure you couldn't find it. He would have brought it back with him."

"But, if he brought it back with him, then couldn't you find it?"

"My guess is, he's in a much better position to keep an eye on me than he is to watch you. If he hid that gem somewhere up here, I think he could be reasonably confident that I wouldn't stumble across it without his knowledge."

There was a moment of silence to appreciate the magnitude of the situation, but only a moment. They couldn't spare any more.

"We shouldn't jump to conclusions, Zelda. It could have been someone else. After all, we still don't even know how he got back out of the Cloud in the first place."

Zelda could feel the pieces clicking into place in her head. The mystery was slowly unraveling. It was as though a huge shadow that had hung over her head was finally coming into focus. Link sounded as annoyed as ever but Zelda was positive that they were on the verge of the solution. Just a few more pieces.

"Link, how fast did the Cloud expand?"

"What?"

"When I first went up here, how fast was the Cloud expanding?"

"It was pretty steady, I think. It kept growing at about the same rate as it had since the beginning. Why?"

"That isn't what Vaati told me."

"What did he tell you?"

"He said, or he theorized, or he said he theorized... I don't know what exactly. Anyway, he told me that he expected the Cloud would expand very quickly for a while and then slow to a stop as it ran out of energy in his palace to consume."  
>"Maybe he didn't know what was happening either."<p>

"Or maybe he lied."

There was a pause as Link considered these words. Zelda absently fingered the sheets, gripping the cloth beneath her hand, as she tried to put fit it all together.

"What would he gain from lying about that?"

"Because, if the Cloud was smaller at that point then he said, maybe we weren't so far from the edge of it. If we were close enough, maybe he would have risked trying to sneak through it."

"It's impossible."

"No, it isn't. I've been inside it. It was like it was sentient, and it didn't usually attack on sight. Maybe the Cloud let him through, or maybe he just ran. Regardless, I think he got through the Cloud, took the gem and came back."

"But you would have noticed if he suddenly had a huge gem with him. And you definitely would have noticed if he was gone."

"He could have hidden the gem," Zelda answered quickly, before she paused. "But there weren't really many places to hide things. Our campsites were pretty small and pretty sparse."

"What about the Cloud?" Link asked.

"What about it?"

"Could he have hidden it in there?"

"It's possible. But, then, who knows what happened to it? The Cloud was... strange to say the least. What would it have done to the gem? It couldn't have-" She remembered the feeling of the shadow creatures on her skin. She remembered feeling her skin singe under their inky black touch. Would they hurt inanimate objects the same way they did living flesh?

"Don't panic, Zelda," Link reassured her. "We don't know for sure it went in there. We don't even know he took it. We still don't know how he got out without you noticing."

Zelda's eyes shot open. She understood. Suddenly, she understood everything. Her face paled as the situation unfolded before her. She squeezed the blanket tighter, trying to control the flood of rage and terror that seized her.

"Yes," she answered simply. "Yes, we do."

"What? How?"

"You won't like it," she answered warningly.

"Tell me," he commanded. His voice was harsher than he intended and, way down on the surface, he winced a little. Still, now was not a time for niceties.

"You're right. I know where exactly Vaati was every moment except for two. There are these... gaps in my memory."

"Gaps? Do you mean like amnesia?"

"Not exactly... You're going to kill me for this," she said as she took another precious moment to compose herself. "I let him into my mind?"

"Into your mind how?"

"I took down my shields and let him in."

Silence from the other end. Then, Link made a spluttering noise, but couldn't seem to articulate a response. After another wasted second, Zelda decided that she couldn't wait any longer and had to explain.

"I had to, Link. It's complicated, but I needed to let him in to... fix something. It's a long story that I swear to you I will tell you someday."

"What were you thinking?"

"There's a really good reason-"

"What could you possibly have been thinking?" he yelled. Zelda froze. Link didn't yell. He never yelled. He was the man of infinite patience, who put up with her moods with quiet stoicism. That was his job. He could show a thousand more emotions in a single raise of an eyebrow than most people could shouting and screaming at the top of their lungs. She had always admired that about him. In all their years together, she had barely heard his voice at all, let alone heard his voice raised in anger.

"I had to."

"No, you didn't. He couldn't make you do that. That was the one thing that he couldn't take from you by force and you gave it to him."

"Link, what are you talking about?" There was silence.

His voice was cold when he answered, "What happened during these gaps?"

She answered with her own coldness. "When I woke, my wrists were bleeding. Nothing else, just my wrists. The second time it happened, I woke all twisted, like I was trying to fight him for some reason. That was all I ever figured out."

"Your wrists, were they bleeding just in parts or all the way around?"

She thought for a minute, remembering holding her tender limbs all those nights ago and the rubbed raw skin on them. "I think they were only bleeding a little on the sides, but they were chafed all the way round."

He grunted his understanding. "I've only ever seen that happen when someone struggled against having their hands bound."

"He bound my hands?" Zelda asked incredulously. She couldn't imagine having that happen and yet not being able to remember a thing.

"That's the only theory I have. If you have another, enlighten me."

"No, that makes sense. He entered my mind and did...something that made me forget he had left. For some reason he had to bind my hands to do it, but he didn't think it mattered, because I couldn't remember it happening. During that time, he snuck out, took the gem, and brought it back with him, to the palace, where I now have to find it. I think I understand."

"So now the gem is in the Palace of Winds."

"And I have to find it."

"But-" Link began before he changed his mind. "No, you're right, you have to find it." His voice was weary and Zelda bit her lip in response, guilt washing through her at her friend's distress.

"I promise I'll be careful."

"I'm sure you will."

"Really," she insisted. "No unnecessary risks. I swear."

"You told me that before, and look what you've gotten yourself into."

"It was a necessary risk," she told him, mentally begging him to understand. "I can't get into it now but it was."

"I believe you," Link answered quietly, without a hint of comfort to his voice.

After a painfully, terrifyingly long moment Zelda realized that they had nothing more to say to each other, and they had no more time left to say it. It was time to say good-bye.

"You be careful, too. When all this is over, and we're both back on the ground in one piece, then it will be alright, I promise."

There was no response, and Zelda sighed disappointedly. Just as she was about to end the connection, she heard a quiet answer.

"I told you to let me go up there in your place."

"And I told you that it had to be this way, you know that."

"No, it didn't," Link answered. He took a minute to gather his thoughts before adding. "These things that I do, all these stupid, dangerous things... I do them so that you don't have to. I hope you realize that."

"I do," she promised, hoping to console her friend a little, though she doubted that t worked.

"Good morning," he answered. Zelda paused. Good morning? What was that supposed to mean?

"Are you well, princess?" Zelda froze at the words. Suddenly she realized why it didn't make sense. That wasn't Link speaking at all. She jerked her head up sharply and found herself face to face with Vaati, who had, apparently, woken up.

Hastily, she cut off the connection with Link, not even stopping to say good-bye. Vaati was still looking at her, apparently still waiting for a response.

"I- I didn't know I was awake," Zelda answered, slowly, trying to feign a reason for her strange behavior.

"Oh, really?" he asked with just the sort of mocking tone that she couldn't tell if he believed her or not. "But your eyes were open and you looked positively distressed."

"I'm sorry. It was a nightmare," she said, as she cast her eyes down at the bed embarrassedly. "I didn't realize it was over."

"Hmm? Was this your old nightmare then?"

"Oh, no. No, definitely not," she insisted, speaking just a little too quickly on purpose.

"Is that so, then what was this horrible nightmare?"

"It was... umm...," she answered shyly, looking up at his eyes for only a second. Then, just as quickly she looked back towards the sheets, biting her bottom lip just a little. "I'd rather not say."

She held this pose just long enough for him to draw his own conclusions about what she had dreamt. In her experience, sometimes leaving the interpretation of a situation up to the other person was best. They filled in the gaps with what they wanted the answer to be, and remained steadfastly convinced that their invention was truth. She had pulled off this trick too many times to count.

And apparently it worked again, because he smiled widely and muttered a simple, "Oh," like it should have been obvious all along. She didn't want to know what it was he was thinking. "So that is what you think about when you sleep, hmm?"

Zelda didn't look up, knowing that if she showed any confusion now it would give away her whole ruse. She opted instead to plaster a look of shame on her face, which made him laugh to see it, but didn't give away her plan in the slightest.

"I wouldn't have thought you were that type."

She really didn't want to know what he was thinking. She was terrified that she would look into his eyes and see exactly what he saw. She turned her head farther away from him, until she was staring resolutely at the floor.

"Well, isn't this interesting," he continued. He waited for a few more moments, savoring her discomfort. No, it was beyond discomfort. The girl looked positively mortified. At last, though, the amusement passed, and he spoke again. "But it's unimportant. I believe we had a deal."

Slowly, she turned her head to look back around at him. She still looked embarrassed, shamed, but there was a spark of hope and curiosity in her eyes. Apparently she wanted to leave, desperately.

"We did," Zelda answered simply.

"That is, if you're well enough to travel."

Truthfully, Zelda's head was pounding from the strain of such a long distance psychic connection. Her legs weren't quite as weak as before, but they were still sore. However, she didn't let any of this show, knowing that he would look for any excuse to delay their departure and prolong her torment.

"I am well enough."

"That's good to hear." At long last he sat up and swung his legs off of the bed, taking only a moment to straighten his rumpled clothing. She, too, sat up and didn't even bother with her appearance. She was so far beyond caring about her clothes and hair now. All that mattered was getting out of the room and finding a way to get around the palace, until she could figure out where the gem was.

This didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. He watched her with the sort of obsessive examination that was usually reserved for artists inspecting a painting. If he noticed that her hair was in disarray, that there was even some blood in it, he didn't react. He didn't care that she still wore her traveling clothes, which by now were scraped, torn, and even slightly singed. It didn't even seem to bother him that she still wore the short knife tucked into her belt.

To him, it was beautiful, in a strange way, to see her looking so broken. Watching her struggle to her feet and balance on wobbling legs, looking so fragile, so breakable, was positively one of the most thrilling experiences he could have hoped for. In the back of his mind, he recalled the woman he first met, all those days ago. She had dressed immaculately, drenched herself in ceremony and lace. Every inch of her screamed with the princess of destiny, and it hurt his eyes even to look at her. She was the face of his defeat, of his rage, and of his wrath. But now, this cracked doll tottering her way towards the door, and looking back at him expectantly, this child, she was nothing like the princess he had known.

Now, the only place on her that still hinted at her power was her eyes. And even that was breaking. Little cracks in her bravado were beginning to shine through, and her desperation was starting to leak out. Even now, when she stood in front of the door, her hands twitched with the desire to claw at the walls. She was restraining herself with all her strength, but her strength could only hold up so long.

This, he decided, would be the fun part, watching the strain take her until she was nothing at all. That is, if he didn't simply destroy her first. That would be fun, too.

Zelda stood in front of the door for nearly a minute, waiting for him to open it. He didn't seem in a hurry, casually straightening the covers or picking an imaginary fleck of dust from his sleeve. By the time he finally neared the door, she thought she might scream at the horror of it all. She needed to get out, then and there.

He yawned slowly and she almost punched him. At last, when he dropped his arms back to his sides, he asked casually, "Ready?" She didn't trust herself to speak and managed only the briefest of nods, which he accepted with a somewhat annoyed shrug.

He opened the door without touching it, presumably to show off, Zelda decided. The air on the other side seemed to be shimmering slightly, as though there were a layer of glass between her and the outside world, although this was impossible. She observed the phenomenon with curiosity, as Vaati approached slowly and nonchalantly placed his hand on the half invisible wall. It shattered instantly beneath his touch, earning an involuntary jerk of surprise from Zelda.

So he shielded the door, she thought. Of course. That would most definitely complicate things. She was lucky enough that she had persuaded him to take her outside, admittedly under supervision. There was no way she could convince him to take down the shield. Absolutely none, and even asking about it was risky. Maybe she could break through his shield somehow. It seemed unlikely, but then again, she had managed a lot of unlikely things in the past few weeks. If there was a way it could be done, then she would have to do it. But for now, it was probably best to leave it be, until she had a plan of action in mind.

With the shield dispelled, he beckoned her out into the hallway, and she moved without a second of hesitation. Crossing the threshold, she felt her pulse quicken and subconsciously stood a little straighter. This was it, she was finally taking some action, however ineffectual it may seem. If he was to be believed, she had been locked in that room for two days. It was two days too many, even if she was unconscious for most of it. But now was the time to change all that. She could still turn this around. She just needed a decent plan. With a sufficiently long mental pep talk, she almost convinced herself that this wasn't such a tremendous obstacle after all.

That was, of course, before she took a look around.

At the start of her journey, Zelda had had the vaguest of impressions that the palace must have been an opulent place. She dimly recalled seeing carvings and paintings and being startled by their skill. But, dwarfed by the shadows of the Cloud, the impressive surroundings had been only a footnote in her mind, a small detail that she had disregarded all but completely. And besides, when they had been locked within the confines of the Cloud, navigating only by the dim glow of her shield, it was impossible to see much farther than a few feet in front of her. That small radius gave her no sense of the true grandeur of the building.

Now, of course, in the late morning light, she could see it all, and her breath hitched at the sight. The building was constructed of some kind of white stone, with a very open design, a fact which she had not even come to realize until that moment. Sometimes, where she expected walls, there were only pillars. Instead of doors, there were archways. Where a roof wasn't absolutely necessary it was left off, and the room below was exposed to the elements. Although, given the palace was contentedly hovering just above the clouds, there weren't so many elements left to be exposed to.

Everything about the design was curvy and organic. All of the staircases, and there were many more staircases than she would have predicted, traveled in long, snaky spirals up the sides of walls. It also seemed that there were towers that she hadn't noticed before, and which he had conveniently forgotten to mention in his cursory description of the palace.

From where she stood, on what she estimated was maybe the fourth floor of what was presumably the central body of his palace, she had a fairly impressive view of the expanse. It amazed her. The palace itself was relatively compact and yet it appeared to be laid out in such a sprawling manner. Far in the distance, she could just make out the edge of the outer ring and one of the bridges leading to it. It had never seemed so far away before.

And even the size and magnitude of the place couldn't quite prepare her for the sheer dedication that had gone into crafting every inch. Dancing along the top of the nearest wall was a simple painting, an extended line of miscellaneous vegetation, stones, and possibly some water. And yet, even though it was a casual, understated affair at best, the craftsmanship was beyond remarkable. And she could see that single painting trace a line down the wall for hundreds of feet. It was breathtaking, almost more than she could take in.

She could forget about trying to memorize the layout of this place. It was too complicated for that. Maybe if she could just pick out a few landmarks she might be able to navigate a little. Poorly, but it might be done. She felt her as though her throat had chosen to plummet into her stomach, while her stomach sought refuge in her feet. The enormity of the task before her just got suddenly so much larger.

He didn't fail to notice her surprise, either, allowing himself a moment to gloat at the stunned expression on her face. The girl didn't seem to know what to do with herself. Her mouth hadn't quite fallen open, but it looked like it might at any moment. He wasn't surprised. The palace tended to have that effect on people.

"What were you expecting?" he asked at long last, startling Zelda out of her reverie with a jump.

"I don't know," she answered honestly, unable to quite collect her thoughts enough to formulate a response. "It's- it's something."

"Indeed," he answered, placing a hand lightly on the wall and feeling for the thousandth time the smooth, cold stone beneath his hands. It was good to be back, he decided. So very good. "But, if you are finished, I believe that I had something to show you." She looked back at him and paused as though she had just remembered. He fought the desire to grab her and force her to hurry up. Because he had a plan, too, and waiting to put it into action was positively impossible.

Unbeknownst to him, Zelda had the exact same impatient feeling of ants crawling up and down her veins, under her skin, but for an entirely different reason.

She shook her head quickly to remind herself to focus. One step at a time, take it one step at a time, she repeated to herself. No sense in panicking. "Of course." As she stepped forward to join him, he gave her a simple gesture to follow behind him as he led her down an unnecessarily complicated path. She tried to recall each turn, but it was beyond difficult. No two paths seemed to meet at right angles, stairs seemed to loop around each other. One impressive painting blended in with the next and it didn't take long before Zelda was hopelessly lost. The whole set-up seemed so dreadfully impenetrable and, above all, inconvenient. Although, she supposed, if he was so inclined he wouldn't be especially confined to stairwells.

She held back a groan. The palace hadn't seemed nearly so confusing the last time. Of course, he had been leading her that whole trip, too. Then again, it had seemed to her like they were taking a fairly central path the last time, which would imply that there was a much simpler way to navigate this place. If anything, he might possibly be leading her around a needlessly complicated way, if only just to confuse her. But even if that were the case, then she'd still have no way of knowing how to get anywhere, she'd just be fairly certain that, wherever she was going, she was choosing the most inefficient path possible to get there.

They walked for a while in absolute silence. Zelda had no idea where they were going, nor was she inclined to ask. Eventually, they came to a large bridge, which Zelda supposed meant they were crossing into the outer ring. The silence drifted between them, broken only by the sound of their small footsteps echoing across the empty space. For a few precious moments, it seemed that the world hung in limbo as if their journey would never end.

Then she heard it. It was a snuffling noise, like a pig, and yet it sounded so much bigger than any pig she had ever seen. She spun around when she heard it and bit back a scream, stumbling backwards a few feet, miraculously just managing to stay atop the narrow walkway.

The creature was huge. She had heard stories, of course, who hadn't, but the creature was so much huger in real life. It looked like it had been cobbled together out of pieces that didn't quite fit and then dropped into a sack of discolored skin. Although it stood upright, its legs were built like it should walk on all fours, forcing the creature to stoop forward slightly, just to maintain its balance. It's chest was disproportionately large and looked like it might crush its skinny, mysteriously furry, hoofed legs. And yet the creature's face, its beady eyes and squat snout, showed not even the slightest hint of discomfort. Instead, despite the fact that its tongue lolled out and sweat was dripping into its eyes, the creature paraded about with a swagger that Zelda could only call pride.

It was proud to be what it was, proud to be doing what it was doing. It was pleased with itself.

Her face paled as she watched the creature patrol past. It carried a large staff, upon which it did not lean, but rather seemed to wave about in the air as an extra reminder of its authority. It was guarding the palace, and it wanted everyone, intruder or otherwise, to know.

Even when the creature had passed beyond her view, Zelda still hadn't managed to pull words back into her throat. For a few moments, she managed to produce a coughing, spluttering sound, but that was it.

"Not pleased?" he asked simply, waiting impatiently for her to snap out of her daze. Impressing and terrifying her were all well and good, but he did hope to reach their destination some time that day. And all over a Moblin? His palace was one thing, but a Moblin?

"They're real?" she gasped.

"Obviously."

"There were stories, but they never seemed this big in stories."

He rolled his eyes, frustrated not for the first time at her ignorance. It was fun, or course, being able to shake her to her foundation with simple facts that her ancestors would have taken for granted. But now, as they got closer to their destination, he could feel himself getting impatient. He had a test in mind for the girl, which he was itching to put into action if they could only move a little faster.

"Of course they're big. They're not exactly geniuses if you understand what I mean. If they weren't big what could they possibly be good for?"

She didn't answer, still watching the corner cautiously, in case the beast was inclined to return. After a few quiet moments, she allowed him to take her elbow and slowly drag her down the path, although she kept a watchful eye out, checking over her shoulder occasionally.

"You don't have to worry. They're not going to hurt you," he said at last, after one of attempted surreptitious checks caused her trip over the back of his cloak and nearly sent her over the edge. Not that she was truly in danger of falling all the way to the ground, but it would still be annoying to have to fetch her.

"Because I'm with you?" she guessed, straightening herself with as much dignity as she could muster.

"Precisely. They couldn't possibly wrap their minds around the concept of destroying their creator. I built them that way. Not that they could, even if they wanted to. I doubt they could make it ten steps before I pulverized them."

So he's telling me to relax because he's capable of instantly turning living creatures into dust, Zelda thought to herself. But, he seemed like he was telling the truth, and besides, she couldn't focus on the more important tasks if she was always checking over her shoulder. She gave in and walked with her eyes facing forward, which turned out to be a very good choice, since that monster was not the only one they encountered.

It seemed that Vaati had set up multiple patrols to cover the bridges and the area near them as well as the entirety of the outer ring. While none of them took her as completely by surprise as the first encounter, she still found herself standing instinctively a little closer to him, just in case any of the Moblins got the wrong impression.

As they walked, it seemed to her that the Moblins had been set at fairly regular intervals, but close to the edges of the palace their numbers suddenly increased. That was odd. After all, she could only assume that the guards were there for her. Who else would have access to the palace besides Vaati himself? Did he think she was going to jump?

As Zelda pondered this, the pair finally finished their journey and, with a sharp gesture from Vaati, came to a halt at what appeared to be nothing more than an abrupt drop. Zelda looked around in confusion, trying to spot what it was that brought them to this place in particular. The spot where they had stopped seemed rather non-descript, or as non-descript as anything in that place could be. It was nothing but a bit of flat flooring, extending sort of like a balcony over a huge empty space. Slowly, carefully, she leaned over the edge to see if there was anything special to see beneath her, but there were just clouds. The cloud cover beneath them was thicker than usual, and she couldn't even see the land below it.

She leaned as far over as she could manage without tumbling straight off, and noticed out of the corner of her eye, one of the Moblins shifting uncomfortably. As she pulled back away from the edge, the creature visibly relaxed. Apparently, it was under orders not to let her fall off the edge. Unfortunately, it was also under orders not to harass its master, and the two conflicting commands seemed to be greatly troubling the gargantuan beast. But why would he bother giving that order in the first place? Why was it so important to him to keep her away from the edge?

At last she shrugged off the point, hoping it was merely some eccentricity of his, and instead focused on her current predicament. Vaati didn't seem inclined to start speaking, so she figured it was up to her to ask her question.

"Why are we here?" she asked. He smiled slowly. Let the test begin.

"Do you recognize this place?" She looked around for any indication that she had been here before, but there was nothing to suggest that it was any place special.

"No, I don't."

"Of course you don't. You haven't been here before."

"Then why did you ask?"

"Because I want you to remember this place. Next time I ask you if you recognize this spot, I want you know exactly where this is and exactly why it matters."

She bit the bottom of her lip when she heard his words. They were casual, but there was a darkness to them that made her want to back away from the edge as quickly as possible. She held her ground only with the most steadfast determination.

"Where is it?"

"It's in the middle of nothing."

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and her face betrayed her fear. "It can't be in the middle of nothing," she insisted, but her voice was shaking just a little. That was promising, he decided, but not a guarantee. Oh, no, his test was much more complex than that.

"Look over the edge," he ordered her, even though she had just checked for herself a moment ago. "See anything?"

"Just clouds."

"And what do you expect is beneath the clouds?"

"The land, I suppose." Zelda's mind was racing. What was he talking about? Of course the land was beneath them. What else could there be? More importantly, why had he taken her out of her room, brought her all the way across the palace, just to test her elementary geography skills?

"Land. That would seem logical. And yet?" He moved his hands just slightly, and suddenly a small hole formed in the cloud cover and a gateway opened into the world below. Zelda waited expectantly for patches of green to show themselves from beneath the thick white clouds. Yet, nothing came. She peered straight down through the hole, and yet all she could see was sky beneath them.

That was strange. That was beyond strange. That was absolutely impossible. What was going on?

"What is this?" she asked, her eyes darting between her companion and the empty hole below.

"It's what it looks like."

"That's impossible."

"Don't believe me? Well, then, come and take a look for yourself." Without another word, he stepped off the edge of the platform as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Zelda jerked automatically, instinctively expecting to see him plummet to his death, even though, intellectually, she knew he wouldn't.

It was bizarre, watching him walk on air and she couldn't quite wrap her head around it. The tips of his cloak danced about him as he spun to face her. At last, he offered his hand out to her, plainly expecting her to take it.

"Not afraid of heights now, are we? You were so brave the last time," he taunted, still offering his hand to her. In the end she accepted it, feeling his fingers wrap themselves around hers. They were warm to the touch. Zelda hadn't realized how cold her own skin had gone until she touched his. With a small amount of coaxing, she finally managed to take a step off the edge. Her foot dipped a little as she transferred her weight into thin air, but his magic held strong and she quickly found herself standing on nothing at all. Her grip on his hand tightened as she felt that her balance was precarious at best. To her eternal shock, she had to fight the instinct to grab onto his shoulder for further support. She wouldn't allow that indignity.

Following his lead, she permitted him to pull her towards the hole in the clouds. She didn't really walk, per se, although she made the occasional effort to move with him, but was mostly dragged along, with surprising grace, through the empty space. At last, the two found themselves positioned directly above the hole, close enough that she could have reached out and touched the clouds, if she weren't convinced that she would tip over.

She looked down. Sky. Just sky.

Straining her eyes, she searched and searched for any clue that this was a trick. It must be an illusion. It had to be.

"It's a trick," she answered, trying to convince herself it was true.

"It has to be?" he asked, taking the words right out of her mouth.

"Yes," she insisted. "That's not possible."

"And yet your own eyes tell you otherwise."

"There was land there before."

"But there isn't now. Honestly, Zelda, can you really be sure your country even exists anymore? After all, you can't contact anyone. You can't see anyone. What makes you so sure that anything exists at all."

"Things don't just disappear," she argued.

"Your people have lived in ignorance for hundreds of years. You don't really know what my magic, or any magic is capable of. Perhaps the Cloud did a little more than we expected. Perhaps I simply couldn't stand to let that wretched kingdom live a moment longer. You don't know."

Zelda shook her head. That wasn't true. She did know. She had spoken to Link just that morning. Hyrule had to exist, she just couldn't see it, she reminded herself.

But if that was true, that left an even bigger question. Why in the heavens would he try to convince her that her country didn't exist? That was, by far, the strangest gambit he had ever taken. Ever. It was beyond ridiculous. It was absurd. Strangely convincing, though.

She shook her head again. No, he was lying. He was just lying a much bigger lie than she had ever conceived as possible. Now she just had to know why.

"You couldn't."

"But I have. Your own eyes can tell you that."

"Eyes can be deceiving."

"But if you can't trust your own senses, what can you trust? When your ancestor complained to her father of strange dreams and impossible visions, she had to trust what she was seeing, as implausible as it might seem. And she was right. It was only her faith in what her eyes saw that saved your little country. Now tell me, what do your eyes see?"

"Nothing."

"Exactly. They see nothing because there is nothing. Nothing left at all in this world, nothing but you and me."

She knew it was false. She knew it was false. She had to keep repeating this to herself in her brain. For some reason, his words rung true even though she knew they were lies. She had spoken to Link just an hour ago. Why were his words so hard to ignore even when she knew there was no truth to them?

He was just a good actor, she reminded herself. If their experiences had proved nothing else, it was that he could become anything he wanted to, instantly. And he probably knew something about creating illusions. It couldn't be that difficult.

But her eyes kept telling her otherwise. It was so hard to believe that her eyes could really be lying.

She turned her head quickly from side to side, trying to see if she could spot the palace from where they stood, but it seemed to have disappeared into the clouds. She turned back to look at him, and saw that he didn't seem the least bit concerned. She was tempted to drop to her knees and dive down, to look for clues, but she doubted that she could force herself to fall, even if she tried.

Slowly, he placed his free hand on her shoulder and spun her to face him. When she kept staring straight down, he was eventually forced to place a hand on her cheek until he had her attention.

"It's really quite funny," he told her, "When you told me your dreams last night, I couldn't believe the timing. You see, I had planned to shield you from all this. I honestly planned to keep you safe, break the news to you gently. But when you told me that story, I just couldn't stand to see you suffer in ignorance any longer. Better to suffer informed."

"No," she answered, still trying to piece the story together.

"You do see, don't you? Believe your eyes and believe your senses. Believe your dreams, because they're coming true right now. There's nothing left for you now. Nothing at all."

Zelda froze, realization hitting her like a wave.

She understood. Oh, how she understood.

His intention had never been to convince her that Hyrule didn't exist. That would be crazy. His intention was to plant in her the tiny seed of doubt, that maybe it was possible that Hyrule didn't exist. He probably expected her to assume he was lying and completely disregard everything by the time they made it back to the palace. He was probably counting on it. His plan had just been to make her worry that, maybe, there was the slightest possibility that he was telling the truth.

He didn't care if she believed him at all, because this wasn't about Hyrule in any way. This was about her dreams.

He just wanted to see her reaction.

Oh this was low, even for him. It was creative, she had to give him credit for that, but it was low. He wanted to make her fear that her dreams had come to pass already and see what she'd do. This was all his way, his strange, strange way, of trying to see if she was telling the truth.

Now that she knew, she had to decide what face to show him. Panic would probably indicate she had been telling the truth, unless he could see straight through her acting. And besides, did he really want her to be truthful, or was he hoping to catch her in a lie? Which would please him more?

There was only really one solution, one way that she was guaranteed to be able to drag the charade out a little longer: she was going to have to be completely neutral. Which meant that she was going to have to call him out, tell him everything she knew.

She was going to have to reveal her hand.

But would he wonder then, how she had made up her mind so quickly? Would he put the pieces together about her contact with Link? There was a better way. There had to be a better way. She looked back down at the expanse beneath her, when suddenly, she saw it.

Of course, she thought to herself. It's not really an illusion at all.

"Vaati," she said slowly, "That's a lake."

He froze, his face stuck halfway between shock and rage. "What?"

"It's a lake. I can prove it."

"Oh, really?"

"Look closer," she told him, pointing down at the supposed expanse of sky. She almost laughed at herself when she saw it. Once she had realized, it all became so obvious. Still water, perfectly still water reflects what's directly above it, namely the sky. If there weren't any trees around the edge, there would be no clues, from where she stood, that it wasn't real. If there was no wind, and she supposed that he could ensure there was no wind, then there wouldn't even be ripples to give it away. The lake was perfectly smooth, a perfect mirror. Well, mostly.

"The fish," she whispered. "There's a fish in there. It keeps swimming up to the surface and it leaves ripples in its wake. That gave it away. And once I saw that, it didn't take much to see through the rest. The clouds down there exactly mirror the ones up here. You can even see a little dot, right there. That's us."

She waited in silence for him to respond. He seemed to choke on his words for a moment, before he at last answered. "Impressive," he answered, eerily calm, but his hands were shaking.

"Why did you do this?" she asked, even though she knew. Best not to give him too much information.

"I've used it before," he answered.

He's lying, Zelda realized, somewhat surprised at how she knew that. Perhaps she was getting better at reading him than she thought. He devised this plan specially for her.

"It was well done. You almost had me believing the impossible."

"Oh, it's not impossible," he insisted, roughly grabbing her shoulders again and holding her in front of him. His voice dropped and his lips formed into a snarl. "One day, I'll see it done."

"You'll destroy Hyrule?"

"No. I'll leave you with nothing. This I swear to you. When I am finished, you will have nothing. Not your kingdom, not your hero. You will be alone, and empty, living only on the crumbs that I leave for you. But you won't die, not like that. You're going to live for me. You are going to suffer the nothing for me." His rage took him over, Zelda realized. She could hear it in his voice and feel it in the vice that was tightening on her shoulders.

He's angry because he's afraid, Zelda knew. He's afraid because he doubts himself. He doesn't know whether or not to believe you. He doesn't know if you've got something planned that he won't be able to counter. He's confused. Zelda repressed a smile for the sake of the hands not too far from her throat.

Confusion was a chink in the armor. Confusion, she could with.

Softly, she replied, "Even if I hadn't seen the fish, I know you couldn't have done something like that."

"Oh, oh I see," he answered, "this is the moment where the beautiful princess tries to save the heartless villain from himself, is it?"

"No," she answered plainly. "I don't doubt that you are an evil enough man to destroy the world. But you won't. Because, deep down, you fear the nothing just as much as I do. You surround yourself your palace and your guards and your own destruction because you can't stand to be alone."

"Ah, there's where your wrong, princess. I'm never alone. I have you now."

They returned to the palace without another word, each wrapped in their own thoughts. The trip back was much shorter than the trip there, confirming Zelda's suspicions that there must be an easier form of navigation. But her mind was a little too hazy to remember much about the pathways. She was honestly surprised when they arrived at the door to what she supposed was now her room.

He opened the door without a word and beckoned her inside, though he himself remained at the threshold. To her surprise, a simple dinner had been laid out on the desk.

"I would stay," he told her quickly, "but I'm afraid I have some pressing matters to attend to." He didn't clarify, didn't even look her in the eye. His smug attitude seemed to have been replaced momentarily by his hatred. He shielded the door and slammed it shut. Zelda breathed a sigh of relief. Alone at last.

* * *

><p>He didn't know how she did it. Every time he saw her, she managed to infuriate him beyond what he thought possible. How was that, when he had every advantage in this fight? He had already won. This was the fun part, the spoils of victory. And yet she haunted him, she read him, she tormented him. He could not shake the feeling that she was planning something that he wouldn't be able to fight.<p>

When he finally reached his study, he threw himself down in the nearest chair. Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, he tried his hardest to relax. It was all so absurd. She was a prisoner, his prisoner. She wouldn't even be able to eat if he didn't grant her the privilege. If it would really make him feel better, perhaps he should chain her to a wall or something. Or he could try beating her up again. She was so much more placid with a broken rib.

But, he'd have to restrain himself. If he truly let his rage go, he would break her. And it would be a shame to lose a perfectly good toy so early.

Yes, he thought to himself. That's what she was. Just a toy.

Slowly, he stood up, pacing the length of the room. This place had always had the ability to calm him. He kept it dark, in contrast to the rest of the building, with heavy, red curtains blotting out the sunlight. The floor was covered in a thick carpet, which muffled his footsteps and let him pass like a ghost between the scant furniture. But today, the room didn't seem to be having its desire effect. He remained agitated and restless as he crossed the room time and time again.

What was wrong with him? One minute he could be euphoric, and then these fits of rage just seemed to take him over. It's not that he was ever a model of self-control. He was perfectly content to destroy and wreak havoc as he pleased, taking his whims out on everyone in the vicinity. It's just, it was usually a lot more fun than this. He couldn't be getting bored. This sort of thing had entertained him for thousands of years, he wouldn't lose interest now. And yet something was wrong.

Why didn't he just kill her? It would put an end to his fear. But it would put an end to his fun, which was unacceptable.

For what must have been the hundredth time, he walked up to his desk and gazed at a strange creation on the wall. It was a mirror, black and circular, which took up most of the wall. He gazed deeply into it, somewhat annoyed to see his own reflection. It shouldn't be behaving that way, like any old mirror. But, he supposed, the thick crack running down the center of it was extremely problematic. He remembering the last time he had used that mirror. How had so much gone so wrong so fast?

It didn't matter. The situation was resolved, and he could repair the mirror in due time. The only ideas he had had so far would probably have consumed his entire life force, but that didn't mean it was impossible. There would be time enough to figure it out, and work was always a stress reliever for him.

He set about the task with furious yet ineffective energy, opening books and shutting them before he read a word, laying out ingredients and promptly putting them away, starting to recite words before changing his mind and starting over. Hours passed and he had done nothing.

He flung himself back in his chair again, seething. He couldn't even work. Everything he tried his mind kept coming back to her. It was impossible to escape. Maybe he should sleep, that would set him right. He knew, of course, that he wouldn't sleep. He would lie awake for the whole night. In fact, the closest thing he had gotten to a good night's sleep was the night before.

With a feeling of hopelessness, he flung open the door, intent on attempting to get some rest, when a thought occurred to him. Why was he trying to set himself right? There was nothing to be set right. Perhaps he was agitated because he wasn't taking full advantage of the situation. After all, he had finally gotten a hold of his toy, and he had left it all pretty in the wrapping paper. He promised to leave the girl with nothing, and yet all he had done so far was feed her twice and give her a bed. If he was going to start taking things from her, he might as well start now. If anything was going to fix his problem, this was it.

She wouldn't die tonight. He had made up his mind about that. But she would suffer. He turned on his heels and took off in the opposite direction, his usual swagger returning without his noticing. Besides, he thought, he had been working hard. It was high time he had a break to play.

* * *

><p>And Vaati's losing it. Officially. We all knew this was coming, except that we didn't. And by we, I mean I. That was unintentional. Honestly. He was never meant to get so crazy so fast. But then he did, and I kind of just went with it. I hope it's not too terrible. I know the tone of this chapter will leave you all suffering from whiplash. Link is moody, Zelda isn't, Vaati is moody, Zelda still isn't. It's a little weird, and I'm sorry for that. And that last section is just bizarre, but it had to be done for the purposes of the next two chapters. At the very least, I hope that section reminded everyone that he is evil, a confused, kind of petulant evil perhaps, but still pretty darn evil nonetheless.<p>

Also, my apologies to everyone who reads these authors notes, in that I promised this chapter would be up in a few days, and it took two and a half weeks. But, in fairness, I also said it would be a shorter chapter, and it wound up being my longest chapter yet, at a record 15 pages, 9,000 words. So, I hope it was worth the wait.

I would also like to take a moment to thank some people who left extremely long reviews on the last chapter, which made me super happy, especially in that my email automatically formats them so they're only one inch wide and about two feet long, which makes me feel like I'm reading an epic saga every time I get one. I'm not very good at thank yous, which is why I tend to procrastinate on giving them, which is a horrible habit, but regardless, I got some really awesome reviews this time around and I feel the need to say something. So speical thanks to jovialSpaceship (also thanks for the username. Spaceships are always better when jovial, I always say), Tinselplease, and Reily96 (also thank you for being a repeat reviewer since just about the beginning). I'm really happy with the responses and the thoughts you guys had.

And thanks to everyone else who has reviewed up to this point. I really appreciate it, and each one gets read about 9 times. So thank you everyone.

As always, read, review, enjoy, etc.

'Till next time

-Ornamental Reciprocity


	14. Time Limit

The moment Vaati shut the door to her room, Zelda spun around and faced the door, fully aware that it was shielded to prevent her escape. But she hadn't heard the tell-tale click, which meant that it probably wasn't locked. For a moment it struck her as ironic that she more confident in her abilities to defy his seemingly infinite magical abilities then she was in her ability to pick a simple lock.

She counted to one hundred, slowly, before she made any other moves, just so she could be sure that he would be gone in the event that she did get the door open. Then, after pressing her ear to the door and listening carefully for any sounds, she reached out and twisted the knob. It turned. She pulled on it, as hard as she could, but it wouldn't budge.

Of course it wouldn't, she thought to herself, that would be far too easy. Softly she dropped to her knees and peered through the crack in the door, next to the knob. She could barely see the sun, shining behind the wood, but she could see no bar holding the door shut. And the knob was turning just fine. This meant that the door was definitely unlocked, but the shield itself was somehow holding it shut.

Pursing her lips in frustration, Zelda leaned back on her heels to inspect the door. She could see the hinges, which meant that the door opened towards her. So, if the shield was on the outside, the door should still open. But, she could definitely touch the wood, so the shield couldn't be on the inside. That left only one possibility.

For the first time in days, Zelda reached for her belt and withdrew the knife she kept there. It was as good a way as any to test her theory. Carefully, she positioned the blade at the crack of the door and slid it in, watching the thin blade slide between the wood and the stone. Before it had gone one inch, the knife hit something hard and stopped with an abrupt clang. Zelda dragged the knife up, testing to see if it could go deeper, but it was met with the wall each time. She tried the crack at the bottom of the door and still the knife would go no deeper.

So, she realized, the shield blocking her door actually went through the door itself. Zelda bit her bottom lip in concentration. Funny how, in all the time that she spent practicing building shields, it never occurred to her to wonder how to break them. They broke on their own so much, that she never had to bother with it. She was regretting that oversight now.

Frustrated, she pressed her forehead up against the door, as though she might somehow absorb the secrets to her escape directly from the wood. How many times had her shields broken in the past? Dozens? Sometimes, it was just that her concentration had lapsed and they dissolved on their own. But, most of the time, it was Vaati who deliberately broke them. He took no small amount of pleasure in watching her hours of work crumble into tiny fragments of light and then disappear forever.

But what had he done to break them? Zelda took to banging her head against the wood now, ignoring the steadily growing, sore patch of red on her forehead. Why hadn't she paid more attention? All she could remember was just a sudden burst of air, or a movement too quick for her eyes to catch and then the whole thing would shatter.

Or the shadow creatures, they could break her shields pretty well, too. But she had even less an idea about them then she did about Vaati. As she stood there, she began to curse herself for her inability. Maybe if she knew some offensive magic, she'd have a chance. But all she'd ever learned was shields. Damn it all, she thought to herself, closing her eyes in defeat. She survived this long, only to be bested by a door.

In a sudden fit of rage, she gripped the knife tightly and stabbed it as hard as she could into the wood. It stuck fast, sticking out at her tauntingly, it's tip penetrating halfway through the wood, until it had hit the shield. That was even worse. She wasn't bested by a door. She was bested by a half a door.

Goddesses, if only her magic had an offensive component. Then, perhaps...

She watched the knife quivering from where it sat in the door. An idea formed. What was it Vaati had told her? It was all about creativity. Her shields could be offensive, if she knew how to use them. Well, she didn't have any offensive magic, but she had her shields and she had a weapon. Maybe she could make something work.

With a grunt of effort she yanked the knife from the wood and held it in her hand. It was really a dainty blade, now that she thought about it. It would never last long in real combat. But, with any luck. She wouldn't need it to last that long.

Carefully, she ran her fingers over the blade, feeling the sharp edges and the smooth sides. Slowly, she closed her eyes, focusing as hard as she could on the shape in her hands. Then, she summoned a shield.

When she opened her eyes to see her handiwork, she almost gasped in surprise. The shield she made stuck so close to the blade it was almost a part of it. From her perspective, it looked almost as if the blade itself had begun to glow with a golden light. Even she had to admire it for a second before turning back to the task at hand.

This may be a shield, but the shield was as sharp as the knife. This was a shield that could cut. Now, she could only pray it could cut her way out of the prison.

It took her a moment to find the strongest position to stand in. She only had a thin crack in which to jam the knife, so it took so maneuvering until she found a way to stand where she could generate any force. When she finally found it, she collected herself for one moment, and stabbed.

The knife flew through the air in a surprisingly graceful arc, before it landed, exactly as planned, right in the tiny crack between the door and the wall. As expected, it hit the resistance of the shield, but this time it was different. It didn't simply fly off, or stop, or even break as she feared. No, the shield and the knife met, and neither one would give way. For the first time, it seemed like the shield was actively resisting her attempts, like it had sensed a threat. That was oddly comforting and terrifying at the same time.

Sweat began to drip down her brow as she pushed. In a moment of desperation, she gripped the hilt with the other hand and shoved. Her muscles strained to push harder, while her mind strained to hold the knife and the shield around it together. For a long moment, she didn't even dare breathe.

Then, so suddenly she pitched forward, everything shattered. The shield in the door and the shield around the knife collapsed soundlessly. The knife itself, however, broke much more violently. By the time Zelda recovered, there was a thin trickle of blood dripping down her cheek, less than half an inch from her eye, where a tiny fragment of metal had come flying. There were a few more such cuts all over her, but she couldn't even be bothered to care as she let the now useless hilt fall to the ground.

Wordlessly and with baited breath, Zelda reached down and turned the knob. The door swung open without a hint of resistance and she breathed a sigh of relief. She was out.

Now, she simply had to find the gem and get it to Link, somehow. That wasn't so completely impossible, was it? As long as Vaati didn't shield the room where he kept the gem, she reminded herself. She didn't exactly have a knife anymore so she could try the same thing twice.

After a quick glance from side to side, Zelda stepped out into the hallway and shut the door behind her. There didn't appear to be any secondary alarm going off, to her knowledge, which was a very good sign. But a less good sign was that nothing at all seemed familiar to her. And it had gotten darker. This was very bad.

Desperately, she took off running in the first direction she saw. It didn't really matter to her which way it took her. After all, she didn't know where she was going. A part of her said that Vaati would likely keep the gem close to him, but she didn't know where he was, so that wasn't much of a help. And, for that matter, he might suspect her of suspecting, so he might just put the gem in as obscure a location as possible. Which was just as well, because she didn't know how to find that either.

It seemed that her best bet, perhaps her only bet, was to run and pray that the path took her somewhere.

Which is exactly what she did.

* * *

><p>Incredible visions were rolling through Vaati's head as he stalked his way towards the room where he left Zelda. Something in his fury had given rise to a creative spark that he had almost forgotten about. She always did bring out the best in him. He really ought to reward her for that.<p>

He was having ideas now that he had never had before, and he almost couldn't believe that these little kernels of brilliance had escaped him for so many years. Some were so perfect in their simplicity, while other were so needlessly complicated he wondered where he'd even get the materials. He licked his lips subconsciously in anticipation. There was such a sudden rush of energy, that he was looking forward to hurting the girl more than he ever imagined was possible.

Honestly, how could he ever have been worried that he was getting bored?

Quietly, he chuckled to himself. Maybe, if the girl was this good at helping him think, he could use her to fix his little mirror dilemma that was still plaguing him. If only he could find a way to repair it that wouldn't send him flying straight back into the bloody sword, or worse.

Oh, the mirror. Wouldn't the girl just love it when she heard about the mirror.

It was an old relic, one he had kept on standby for so very long. It's properties were far from understood, even by him, but he knew it's function. It could summon the shadow counter-part of anyone. He himself had wreaked havoc with it once before, when a shadow version of the hero managed to trick the little moron into releasing the sorcerer himself. But, all good times come to an end and all that.

Once the hero and the princess, one of the smarter ones (his smile grew as he imagined Zelda's indignant reaction to that one), had put the pieces together, he thought it was better to hide the mirror away for a while. He wouldn't be able to pull the same trick twice, at least, not on the same reincarnations.

But still, it might make for a good escape plan in another couple centuries or so.

How was he supposed to know that in the time since he put it away it had gotten a little bit broken? He still couldn't fathom how it happened. It took more than simple blunt force to break a mirror like that.

But it had all worked out in his favor in the end. When he finally did call on the mirror to begin its work, the creations that poured out of it were beyond twisted, monstrous shadow creatures. Even he didn't recognize them. To his eternal shame, he couldn't even fit the pieces together until after the Cloud was defeated, and he stumbled across the mirror in his search for answers. Fortunately, however, neither could the princess. And so, in desperation, she crafted quite possibly the worst plan he had ever heard.

It was wonderful. He could already picture the look on her face now, when he finally revealed, in a few years, that he had been the cause of everything from the beginning, even if he himself hadn't known it at first. He could leave off that last detail. And it would all be a perfect conclusion. He wondered if she'd scream when she found out.

That sounded like the sort of thing which could snap a person's sanity like a piece of old thread.

* * *

><p>The path Zelda was on took her in a long curving route towards the outer edge of the palace. She had forcibly opened every door she had come across. Some were locked tight and she couldn't open them. A few had simply swung open but yielded nothing useful. Now, as she found herself approaching the edge, bubbles of panic were beginning to rise.<p>

If she couldn't find it, would it be better to run back into her room and hide and pretend it never happened? Maybe allay his suspicions somehow and try again later? But the shield was down, and she couldn't put it back up and even if she could, her knife was utterly destroyed. He'd notice. There would be no trying again later. There might not even be a later.

Zelda skidded to a stop as the path came to an abrupt stop and she found herself at the very edge of the palace. She hadn't seen a door or any hiding spot, or even a place to turn in maybe five minutes. And she really didn't want to backtrack. Backtracking was wasted time, and yet another chance to get caught.

There, she suddenly spotted, to her right about five feet, was another path, this one spiraling towards the center of the palace. However, connecting her to that new road was nothing but a few feet of air. She crept to the edge of the path and cautiously judged the distance between them. There was a chance she could make it. If she did, she could probably cover a whole lot of new ground. If she didn't make it, however, that was the end. She couldn't talk her way past gravity. And if she died, that was the end of the hope for her country. The path was tempting, but it just wasn't an option. She couldn't risk it all on her athletic ability of all things.

Just as she was about to leave, there came a snuffling noise behind her right ear. She didn't need to turn around to know that it was one of those horrid creatures that she had seen that day patrolling the perimeter.

She felt a sudden jab in her shoulder blades that made her stumble dangerously close to the edge. Slowly, so as not to alarm the beast, she raised her hands over her head in a gesture of surrender. The Moblin seemed to understand because one of its hands reached up and harshly grabbed her arm, yanking it behind her back. The feel of its hands were coarse, almost leathery, but they were coated with a thin film of sweat that nearly made her gag. Yet, she stood perfectly still, not even turning to look at its face as it pulled her away from the edge.

A bright light danced in and out of the corner of her vision. It seemed like the creature carried a lantern on a stick to illuminate its path. She only hoped that none of its compatriots would see the light and come running. The snuffling came from right above her suddenly, and she felt a wet snout press into her hair momentarily. She wasn't sure what it was doing, but she didn't care. She had what she needed now, a good idea of where its head was located.

Without looking at her target, it was a gamble, but she didn't dare make any sudden movements that might enrage the creature, which unfortunately included looking at it. So, she shut her eyes and tried to imagine the location of the creatures head in space. As much as it disgusted her, she was going to try a trick that Vaati had mentioned. She summoned an inward facing shield right where she imagined the creature's neck to be.

It let go of her instantly, reeling back in surprise. She whipped around to take a look before quickly moving away from the edge, in case the creature lost control of its motor functions. The Moblin was moving erratically, its hands grasping at the golden casing around its head and neck. Its feet were running it back and forth but it didn't seem to have a destination in mind. Zelda was suddenly intensely grateful that bright light of the shield obscured some of the gore. But even through it, she could see that the Moblin's eyes were bulging, and its mouth was hanging open as though it were trying to call for help. Instead, its tongue just flopped around uselessly, all blue and swollen.

When the blood began to seep from its eyeballs, Zelda found she had to look away, or she would vomit all over, and if vomit wasn't a trail leading right to her, she didn't know what was. But, when the movement finally ceased and she dared look up again, she wished that she had risked it.

When the Moblin had finally died, it lost all control of its limbs. Its legs collapsed, its head wobbled, but most importantly its fingers loosened. The fingers holding up the pole, supporting the lantern. The glass lantern. Which was now tipping precariously towards the ground at high speeds.

She lunged for it, but she couldn't quite build up enough speed. The pole slipped from her fingers and plummeted towards the ground. The lantern shattered against the rock with and ear-shattering crash and the effect was instantaneous.

The creature apparently hadn't been alone, because there were came quiet grunts of recognition from not so far away. Lanterns were lit, and their circles of radiance couldn't have been more than a hundred feet away. Her eyes, adjusted for the darkness, couldn't quite make out the creatures. There could have been anywhere from three to ten, and she doubted she could deal with them all.

She eyed the alternate pathway carefully. Jumping was a risk. A big risk. But, probably safer than the creatures. She backed up a few feet to get a running start, and then dashed. The ground fell out from underneath her and she found herself speeding through the air with a nausea inducing lack of control.

By whatever miracle, she actually overshot her target and collided hard with the ground a full foot and half past the edge. Her legs gave out and she collapsed, but quickly righted herself, turning around to see if the creatures had spotted her.

She didn't see any of the living Moblins anymore, apparently they were as dumb as advertised, but the corpse was staring her right in the face as she stood. It was swollen and pale and its tongue lolled to the side. Its eyes were bloody and had rolled up into its head. Even its skull seemed misshapen somehow. At the sight of its dead face, Zelda finally gave in and wretched.

Then, without so much as a moment of mourning, she turned and followed the path back towards the center of the palace, towards what she suddenly recognized to be the main tower.

* * *

><p>The moment Vaati entered the hallway he could tell something was wrong. The familiar hum of his shield had completely disappeared. Unthinkingly, he began to run, too anxious to see what had happened to even bother with appearances. When he finally pulled the door open, it was exactly as he had suspected. The girl had fled.<p>

The only clue left behind was the hilt of the knife he had given her, with the blade completely missing. He had absolutely no idea what that meant, but he it didn't matter. She had to be in the palace. There was nowhere else to go.

He would find her.

If it was possible for his fury to grow, in that instant it did. The hilt exploded in his hand and the door was blown off of its hinges. He didn't know where she had gone or what she was trying to do, but he would find her and he would find out.

And when he did, she would scream.

He closed his eyes and imagined the sound echoing around the palace. Fascinating tortures filled his mind. He could picture each in such painstaking detail, that it was almost distracting. It was his relaxation exercise. It calmed him down enough so he could think logically.

If the girl was wandering around the palace it was probable that a Moblin had seen her. But it hadn't been reported to him yet, which was unusual. He made up his mind. He would ask the living Moblins for information, but he would follow the trail of the dead ones.

* * *

><p>The stitch in Zelda's side was getting unbearable, but she didn't dare slow down. Her breath came in gasps and she clutched at her stomach trying to continue moving. She was sure, now, that this was the main tower, the one she had climbed with Vaati not so long ago.<p>

Somehow, without even realizing it, Zelda had decided on a destination. She was headed to the room where they fought the Cloud. In part, she knew that Vaati was a dramatic individual. His sense of drama had historically sometimes overridden his rational side. More importantly, however, she knew how to get there, which was suddenly seeming more and more important.

She took the stairs two at a time, all six flights. Once or twice she stumbled, but she didn't slow. There was too much at stake for that. Yet, when she finally reached the room, she found herself hesitating at the doorway. The door was open, wide open. It had been left open, unlike every single other door she had seen in the palace.

Either Vaati was getting very sloppy or this was somehow a trap. But the room was empty, as far as she could tell. She came very close to backing away before she decided that she really didn't have a choice. If Vaati could trigger a trap in this room, he probably knew that she was headed that way already. Whether or not she ran now, if he was there, he would catch her. If he wasn't there, well, then she had better investigate anyway, and confirm the gem wasn't there. It was the smart thing to do.

She still had to steel her nerves before she finally entered the room.

Her foot landed on a soft carpet and she took a sharp breath in preparation for the impending disaster. Nothing. She took another step. Still nothing. Perhaps there wasn't a trap. Quietly, she shut the door behind her and through up a shield over it, taking a cue from Vaati and placing it inside the door, where it would be less likely to be found. It was weak, but, if nothing else, it might buy her a few seconds, in case Vaati did show up.

She took a quick peak around the room, but she didn't see the gem anywhere obvious. If she had to guess, she would have said the room was a study of some kind, but she didn't pay any attention to the details. She was here for one reason and one reason alone, to tear the place apart.

And so she did. She tore books off shelves and let the fall to the floor, stepping on them and cracking their spines as she went. She even pulled down one of the shelves themselves, in case there was a hidden compartment in the wall. She scattered papers and dropped a crystal vase to the ground, inspecting its remains with her foot. She even threw some ridiculous broken mirror to the ground, even though she knew it wouldn't help.

Finally, the only place left to look was the desk, but the drawers were all locked tight and the wood was solid. She felt around to see if there was any way she could force it open, but the lock proved too strong. The underside of the drawers, however, told a different story.

The wood on the underside was thinner than the wood anywhere else on the desk. She knew that pattern. It was a common way to save money during construction, and was also a good way to use up some the old thin boards. It was considered a little cheap, but it was done very often. It surprised Zelda that Vaati would have a low quality desk, but she supposed he couldn't have made everything himself. It pleased her to imagine that some poor, coerced carpenter years ago had skimped a little on the thickness of the wood in some silent, secret act of rebellion.

Without thinking, Zelda grabbed the heaviest object she could manage, some ridiculous looking crystal, and pulled it with her under the desk. Bracing herself, she swung as hard as she could manage against the wood of the drawer.

* * *

><p>There were crashing noises coming from the tower. Vaati could hear them even from where he stood, inspecting a rather unfortunate deceased Moblin. It had to be her. He didn't even bother to run, instead simply taking off into the air and speeding towards his target. He may have knocked a Moblin or two off the edge in the process, but frankly, he didn't even notice, not when he heard the sound of shattering glass. She wouldn't touch the mirror, would she?<p>

He shook his head. It wouldn't break to mere blunt force, and she couldn't possibly know the magic to break it. Not even he did.

Zelda had punched through the wood, and created an opening just large enough for her hand. The sharper fragments of the drawer pierced her skin as she tried to force her hand inside to discover what was in there. She felt around. Nothing. Next drawer.

Vaati landed less than gracefully, but was running even before he could recover his balance. The door was ahead of him. A hundred feet. A hundred feet more and she would pay.

* * *

><p>Nothing in the second drawer. One more drawer to go. She punched through the wood easier this time. Her hands were beyond scraped and were leaving drops of blood that dripped down onto her neck as she worked. Still, she twisted her hand as far as it could go, feeling even the deepest recesses of the drawer. There! She felt something cool and round, and without thinking reached to grasp it in her hands. She pulled it out, but it wouldn't quite fit through the hole, and there wasn't time to make it bigger. Desperately, she braced her feet against the bottom of the desk and pushed.<p>

The wood bent and splintered. A sliver nearly two inches long impaled her through the wrist. She didn't stop. Small cracks were appearing in the surface. She shut her eyes and pulled as hard as she could on the gem. A louder crack. Then another.

Finally, the wood split open and the gem came free. Zelda clutched the round jewel to her chest, carefully confirming that it was what she thought it was. The surface was smooth and green, but it glinted with an unnatural light. She recognized it instantly from the drawings in old books. She had found it.

"Link," she called out mentally, "are you there?"

"Zelda, I-" he began but she cut him off.

"No time," she said. "I have the gem. I'm going to drop it off the edge. Somewhere beneath the palace. I don't really know where. Watch for it. Find it."

"Zelda."

"Be careful," she insisted, and cut off the connection before he could say anything more. There would be time for apologies after they fixed everything.

* * *

><p>Ten feet, five feet. There. He slammed himself against the door, not anticipating the shield. A little scream of surprise came from inside. It was nice, but not the scream that he was looking for. The scream he was about to receive. He shoved himself twice more against the door, before his senses returned to him and he prepared to blast whatever pathetic shield she had created into oblivion.<p>

He prepared his first blast of energy. Any second now.

* * *

><p>Zelda didn't hear his footsteps as he approached. She didn't even notice he was there until he collided full force with her shield. The unexpected thump made her jump back and a scream escaped her throat.<p>

Oh goddesses, he was here. She heard him throw himself against the shield again, to no effect. Zelda felt a fleeting moment of unfounded confidence at his efforts. Then he turned the brunt of his magic against the shield. The force of the impact sent Zelda to her knees. She didn't even know it was possible to feel pain this way, only because a shield was hit, and yet she found her eyes watering as she struggled to stand with each successive blow. She guessed that the door on his side of the shield must be nothing but powder.

She shut her eyes, trying to remember to breathe. He was going to get in. She couldn't stop him. He was going to find her. But she had to get the gem to Link.

The next blast of magic made her collapse against the windowsill. She had seconds at most. The air from the open window felt disproportionately cool against her face. That was wrong. The room should be heating up to match her terror. The whole world should be heating up. But the night air remained stubbornly cool.

Night air. Night air! She leapt up in a moment of inspiration. The window didn't have a pane of glass. She looked out the window and stared into the darkness. Yes, she could see, six stories down and maybe two hundred feet away, a walkway ended. There was a drop, a sudden drop, which must go straight down. All the way down to Hyrule.

She bit her lower lip, and prayed silently, raised her right arm, and threw the gem, watching it carry all of her hopes with it through the empty night.

* * *

><p>Woo! Okay. Why the long delay between chapters you wonder? Well, first there were finals and school and writers block and all the stuff everyone suffers from. But much more importantly, guess where this chapter is coming to you from? Or don't bother guessing, I'll just tell you. Japan! Yes, I am in Japan (well sort of, the airport on the way to Japan, but you get the gist), where I will be for the next few months. I don't believe it.<p>

I will have my lap top with me, so I will hopefully be doing some writing (and finish this gosh darn thing that is getting much longer than anticipated). I want to thank everyone who's still around for their patience. There will be two maybe three more chapters. I'm not quite sure. Then again, I had to cut this chapter off early, so it wouldn't merge with the gigantic chapter that's coming, and so that I could get some sleep.

I especially want to thank everyone who reviewed last chapter, especially Tinselplease and xir epic reviews that are neverending. I never thought of Vaati as Henry Higgins. A little bit of Dorian Gray but never Henry Higgins. Also, the inner math geek in me is pleased that we have now reached a point of over three reviews on average per chapter. Which really amazes me, especially since I'm usually lucky to get one.

So, thanks to everyone who has been so supportive, and I hope you didn't get too dizzy by the rapid POV changes.

As always, read, review, enjoy.

'Till next time

Ornamental Reciprocity


	15. Loose Piece

The gem made a perfect arc through the air, a tiny speck of green against the infinite black sky. Zelda watched it carefully, praying. Goddesses, she had always had terrible aim. Please, please, let this be the exception, she whispered, clutching the windowsill so tightly that the wood was leaving indentations in her fingers.

The gem plummeted down and Zelda held her breath, finally giving in to the urge to close her eyes. She waited, in silence, her eyes squeezed shut, when she heard the tell-tale clink of the gem hitting stone.

It hadn't made it.

She slammed her eyes open. She caught a quick glance and, sure enough, the gem had fallen made thirty feet short of its target. It was like all of the energy left in her had suddenly drained from her body. She shut her eyes again and simply lay across the windowsill, unable to summon the strength to move. The realization of what this meant suddenly fell over her. That was it.

She was dead. They were doomed.

Then she heard another clink sound and looked up again and gasped. The gem hadn't simply landed. It had bounced. On the first bounce it had covered maybe another seven feet. On the second another three. Finally it was rolling, so agonizingly slowly towards the edge.

Only a foot to go. Please, please, don't stop, she prayed. Go on. It was slowing down rapidly. But it only had inches, left. Zelda found herself subconsciously making encouraging gestures, as though she could somehow will the ball to move. When it finally reached the lip of the stone, it hovered for just a moment, on the edge of falling. Zelda pounded on the windowsill and shouted something incoherent in frustration, just as the gem finally began to fall.

She let out a breath and cast her eyes to the ceiling in silent thanks, but her relief did not last long.

The exact moment that the gem dipped beneath the ledge of the palace out of sight was the same moment that her shield finally broke. She didn't even have time to turn around before the door shattered and he was in the room, behind her. He slammed into her with so much momentum that the force of the collision jammed the window sill into her stomach and she doubled over, her head suddenly hanging out over the long drop down.

"Thinking of jumping?" he asked, his voice betraying a level of fury that Zelda had never heard before. The sheer intensity of it very nearly caused her mind to simply shut off. Suddenly, he pressed his forearm down again the back of her shoulders, effectively keeping her pinned bent over, most of her upper body outside the window. Her awkward and ineffective struggles only caused him to press harder. Her head fell down another two inches. The drop suddenly seemed so much higher than it ever had before, especially when she realized that her feet were no longer quite touching the floor, and the only thing keeping her from falling was his weight pressed all too closely against the back of her legs. It was dizzying, and she was fully aware that with only the slightest shift he could send her plummeting. If he took even one step back she would fall.

He could easily read in the way that she suddenly ceased struggling that she had realized this fact. He smiled and tipped her another three inches, earning a satisfying gasp. "Or perhaps not."

She made sure to stay perfectly still, to not give him a reason to drop her. The gem was back in Hyrule. Link would find it. All she had to do was stay alive until he made it. Apparently, however, he was not pleased with this reaction.

"Princess," he whispered softly, "I believe this is the part where you beg for your life."

"Vaati-" she began, but was summarily interrupted. Apparently, he wasn't pleased with this beginning because he suddenly yanked her back from the window and pushed her hard to the floor. She landed on her left hip, and didn't bother hiding her hiss of pain. Yet, in the moment it took her to roll onto her stomach, he had already planted his foot heavily against the back of her neck, taking a moment to forcefully press down until she feared that he would simply snap her neck then and there.

"You're not very familiar with the concept of begging, are you, Zelda?" He stomped down hard on her neck and the burst of pain nearly made her black out. She couldn't even inhale properly to scream. "A word of advice. Never start with the person's name. It's too confrontational. Too presumptuous. It gives the wrong impression."

The pressure on the back of her neck was suddenly released as he pulled his foot back. Yet, her instincts told her to stay down, and fortunately her rational mind agreed. It was just as well, however, because only a moment after he removed his foot, she felt a sudden pressure on her lower back.

With immense effort she twisted her head, slowly, just enough to see that he had actually knelt on top of her, before his hands came down on either side of her head, effectively blocking off her vision. He leaned forward and the tips of his knees pressed into her skin, making it almost impossible to breathe. Goddesses, she had never realized how heavy he was before. Almost without her awareness, her legs kicked at the air, trying to free herself, but this cage, unusual as it may be, was remarkably effective.

Finally, though, just as she was starting to go a little blue in the face, he leaned back and released some of the pressure, allowing her to desperately grasp a few precious bits of air. "A good starting place," he continued, "is always the word 'please'. Simple, elegant, but it gets the point across perfectly. Wouldn't you agree?" When she didn't respond immediately, he prodded her with his knee again. "Zelda?"

Zelda breathed deeply. She wasn't sure why he wanted her to beg, but it didn't matter especially. It was as Link had said earlier, her priority was staying alive. Link would come in a matter of days. If she could just stay alive until then, her pride could take whatever blow he felt inclined to inflict. If she was alive at the end of the night, she would still be the victor.

"Please," she whispered in her most submissive tone, hoping it would calm him down.

In response, one of his hands snaked around her forehead and pulled her head back farther then she thought it was capable of moving. If she looked as far up as she could, she could just see the edges of his face. Then, his other hand moved around in front of her face. Two of his fingers pressed threateningly, painfully, into her lower eyelid, just beneath her eyes themselves. Her vision started to blur as the pressure caused involuntary tears to leak out. "A little more believably this time."

She didn't have to fake the tremor in her voice as she begged. "Please. Please."

"Much better." He dropped his hand and pushed her face towards the floor. She felt the gritty tile against her cheek and winced in pain as her nose bent uncomfortably. The hand on her head pressed down even harder, but, thankfully, there wasn't much a difference in the pain. That was a small relief. His other hand, however, was softly tracing the bare skin of her shoulder, or the bits that were exposed. Her traveling clothes were in nearly as bad shape as she was herself. There were more little cuts and tears than she could count, which, Zelda had to admit, was almost impressive considering what a sturdy material they had been constructed from. That thought made Zelda squirm a little, as though a piece of her armor had come undone.

His movements were surprisingly gentle, but his hand was shaking. Yet, Zelda knew not to mistake this for kindness or fear. If anything, it seemed like he were trying to hold in his rage, and that these tremors were the last of his resistance before it all exploded. It rather terrified her to think that everything he had done to that point was still him repressing his anger. It terrified her even more to think of what would happen if he ever truly lost control.

Slowly, his fingers wrapped around her shoulders and she could feel his nails graze her collar bone. She twitched involuntarily at the touch and prayed that he didn't notice. He didn't seem to. If anything, the way his hand paused and stilled suggested that he was thinking about something, or constructing a plan. Zelda wished dearly that she could distract him before he finished that plan, but she could not think of a single method that wouldn't set him off. At that moment, she very much suspected that if he so much as heard her voice he would kill her instantly, probably without even realizing what he was doing.

Apparently, he made up his mind pretty quickly, because his fingers suddenly started moving again, pulling at the fabric just a little until her a bit of her collarbone was comfortably visible. He pressed his fingers to it, as he had done now twice before, and Zelda thought for a split second that he was about to attempt to invade her mind again. As fast as she could, she began throwing up mental blocks. They were pitiful, to say the least, and would probably break if he ever tried anything, but it made her feel a little better to know that she at least had some layer of defense. It might buy her a few seconds. And a few seconds, Zelda was quickly realizing, could make any amount of difference. An extra few seconds might keep her alive.

But he didn't attempt to breach her defenses. He didn't even seem to notice her shields. He didn't seem to be focused at all on the magic he was so close to. He was interested in something else entirely. Slowly, his other fingers came around to rest on the thin bone as well, until his hand covered the length of it, his nails grinding hard enough into her flesh to leave red marks.

After a painful silence, he whispered something too quietly for her to hear. Just as she was straining to make out his words, a burst of pain took her completely off guard. Her scream was so loud and shrill that she didn't even recognize it as her own. It sounded inhuman, as it echoed around the room. In spite of her determination to keep calm, keep still, she struggled desperately and purposelessly, her muscles acting largely of their own accord. However, his weight was too much for her and she barely succeeded in moving a few inches before the pain finally faded to a manageable throb. She lay panting on the ground, her face still pressed to the tile before he finally allowed her enough free space to turn her head and see what he had done.

The skin on her shoulder looked gray and dead, almost ashen. Had he burned her? Oh goddesses, the pain was clouding her thinking somewhat, but she knew that the skin should have blistered. It couldn't be a burn. But if it wasn't a burn, what in the heavens could he have done?

She tried to move her arm to touch the wounded area and, to her horror, it wouldn't move. She twisted her gaze, expecting to see him pressing down on her flesh, keeping her pinned, but she saw nothing of the sort. He wasn't even touching that arm anymore. Her muscles simply weren't responding. Her arm wasn't numb- she could still feel the cold, gritty tile beneath her hand, but she simply couldn't move.

In panic she tried to turn her head to meet his gaze, but he stayed directly above her and her neck wouldn't turn far enough. She pushed with her legs and tried to move her hips, suddenly desperate to turn over and see his eyes. See the sick joy she knew was lighting them. She wanted to see an explanation.

But she would get none. His control of the situation was absolute, but the thought only made her struggle harder. Goddesses, if she couldn't see him, he could do anything. Would do anything. If she could just look at his face.

Some small, rational part was screaming at her that that wouldn't make a difference. That she would have no edge over him just by seeing his face and she should stop moving before she made him even more angry, but that didn't matter to her anymore. She had to. She just had to.

There was a long, pathetic moment where her feet scraped uselessly at the ground, unable to gain any traction, and her one good hand clawed at the tiles as though she could rip the floor out from beneath her and free herself. Then, she felt his hand grip her other shoulder and his unyielding fingers squeezed tight around her collarbone.

She listened and heard him mutter another almost silent whisper before another scream of pain interrupted her and her other arm fell uselessly beside her. Without the support of her arms, any hope she had of escaping died and she collapsed uselessly to the ground, lying like a wet rag.

She could only whimper uselessly, as she felt his hands drift down towards her hips and similar pain wrenched its way through her legs and they too dropped to the ground unceremoniously.

At last, she heard him stand up and felt his weight leave her, and she couldn't help but feel some relief at the prospect of being able to breathe freely. But, that relief was short lived when he pushed one of his feet under her stomach, pressed precariously against the rib he had broken so long ago. Then, with an almost impressive show of strength, he lifted as foot simply and she rolled onto her back.

The movement sent another spasm through her already wounded limbs and she screamed again. Her voice was already beginning to go hoarse. Her limbs were twisted, one arm covering her whole face and her legs crossed and bent. There were footsteps above her head, pacing. Then, with an all to final thump, his feet braced themselves on either side of her head.

Shaking, straining, she twisted her head up to see his face above her. Goddesses, he looked impossibly tall from that angle, like a mountain above her, utterly immovable. And he was smiling. That was the worst. He smiled at her, knowing full well that the sight alone made her feel as though her stomach had melted inside of her and she could choke on her own tongue. His head was cocked just slightly to the side, simply admiring the sight for a moment, before he reached and slowly righted her misplaced arm, dropping it lightly by her side. Despite how slow he moved and the softness of his grip, her eyes bugged with the hurt.

And then, as though he hadn't done nearly enough, he sat down deliberately slowly, keeping eye contact with her the whole time, until he was sitting on her stomach. The weight was almost too much to take, even worse than it had been before. Yet, he made no effort to support himself, rather enjoying the sight of her, eyes clenched shut, her chest moving erratically as she tried so hard to inhale deeply. Her face had gone pale before, but now it was beginning to turn red with the exertion. At this rate she would probably pass out in a matter of minutes. And where, he wondered, was the point in that?

Just as little black edges crept into her vision, he shifted his weight onto his legs, on either side of her and leaned forward, bracing his arms right beside her head. He watched her eyes expand as he moved to fill her entire field of vision, hovering mere inches above her. She stopped breathing for a moment as she watched him.

It was wonderful to see her eyes. For once, she was so plainly unsure of his actions. She had absolutely no idea what was coming, which excited him to no end. Her eyes didn't even hold the spark of determination they usually held. She didn't even seem to possess the same curiosity that had driven her for so long. She showed only fear, raw and terrible. This was a girl who fought with logic and knowledge, and now she had lost both in the face of sheer brute strength.

Not that Vaati traditionally prided himself of his strength or physical prowess, but sometimes it felt good to do something with your own two hands, even if those hands happened to be channeling magic at the time.

"Do you want me to explain?" he asked, as she flinched involuntarily. "Surely you want to know what I did to you?"

Zelda felt the first of the tears leak from her eyes. No, she shook her head. She did not want to know. The pain was enough. The fear was enough. Her imagination was doing such a fantastic job of providing possible things he could have done that she truly didn't want to know the truth. The truth could only be worse. She shook her head more emphatically, shutting her eyes against the light of reality.

"Are you sure? I mean, for a girl of such magical expertise, I imagine this first-hand knowledge were be invaluable."

"No," she whispered, "Vaati, no."

He sighed in disappointment and rolled his eyes. "You sure don't learn fast, do you? What did I just finish telling you? Never begin with a person's name when you're begging. Especially not when you find yourself in such a precarious situation as this one."

"Please," she corrected herself rapidly, tripping over her tongue in an attempt to get the word out.

"A little late, dear. You certainly don't learn very fast do you? Why, your ancestor- but of course you know all that already. Now, to the explanation."

"Please. Please." The words came pouring out of her mouth without even her awareness. But, that was just as well, because he didn't seem to care especially, either. No matter what she said, he was in all likelihood, going to do the exact same thing. But Zelda didn't want to consider that thought. Some desperate, weak part of her wanted to believe that if she sacrificed enough pride she could earn his mercy. Earn his kindness. Some part of her even hoped she would earn his forgiveness.

That was ridiculous, of course. She would sacrifice her pride, not for the sake of his mercy, but in the hopes that if would keep him entertained, just enough not to kill her. She had to stay alive, she whispered to herself, that was her only goal. And yet, she couldn't help but imagine what she would have to do to get him to stop.

He had touched her before, not in violence. Not in friendship, certainly, but in a kind of understated threat based on his assumption of his dominance. He didn't need to prove it, and he let her alone accordingly. Goddesses above, in that moment, she would have done anything just to convince him he had won, just to make him stop.

In that moment, if he had given her the choice, she would have let him win.

With one hand, he reached out and touched the gray skin of her shoulder. She didn't feel his fingers. Then, his hand curled into a fist and he softly rapped the space. There was a hollow sounding thump, completely wrong for the sound of flesh on flesh. It sounded almost as though his hand was hitting-

"Stone." He interrupted her thoughts with the word that by far exceeded Zelda's fears. "Of course, its traditional to turn the whole maiden, but on occasion, I find breaking from tradition can produce the most fascinating results."

She swallowed hard, but didn't dare speak as his hand glided from her collarbone over to her neck. "You see, I've done this quite a bit, and often I've found it much more useful than simply turning the whole maiden and being done with it. For example, it's roughly the same amount of pain as simply hacking off an arm, but much less messy. And most of the time, you don't cause any permanent damage, not to most body parts." He trailed his fingers up and down her neck. "There are exceptions, of course. But we probably won't have time to get to them today."

"Don't-"

"Don't? Why ever not? Offer me a compelling argument if you can." His face drew alarmingly close to hers, and her mind unwillingly filled with horrific images. "Because frankly, Zelda, any mercy I had dried up a long time ago."

Zelda slammed her eyes shut and tried to turn her face away as he drew closer, cursing her mind for ever inventing pictures like that.

"Do you want to know what I could do?" he whispered. "I could turn you to stone and leave you for a hundred, a thousand years. It would all pass in an instant for you, and barely more than that for me. Yet, when you woke up, there would be no one left. Imagine it. Everyone you ever cared about, everyone you ever loved, even just the people whose faces you distantly recognized, would all be dead. And I would do it. And you can fight me for the rest of your life, but you can't fight time. And I think once you lost that battle, you'd lose all of your others in that same moment. I promised I'd leave you with nothing. Wouldn't that be interesting to see?"

He watched in amusement as she squeezed her eyes shut as tight as they could go, rather comically screwing up her features. Why her eyes, he wondered. Did she think he would go away if she couldn't see him? He smiled at the thought. He didn't need to be seen to make an impression. Carefully, he moved his face even closer to hers, poising his mouth barely an inch above hers. He opened his lips and breathed softly, watching her twitch as she felt his breath on her face, to make sure that she knew exactly where he was. Apparently, she had figured it out, because she screwed her eyes tighter, if that were possible, in morbid anticipation. Then, ever so carefully, he placed his lips on hers. Not really a kiss, more of a declaration of his presence. She whimpered slightly in distaste, but didn't attempt to escape, not that she really could have. He waited there a moment, giving her a moment to get used to the feel, and then suddenly, viciously, he attacked.

It wasn't a kiss. Both of them knew it. It was an assault and it was treated as such. Her eyes snapped open and her mouth clamped shut, even as one of his hands grabbed at her face, holding her in place. She braced herself against the pain on the contact, secretly almost relieved that he hadn't done worse. After the mind-wrenching pain in her limbs, this was nothing, almost a joke.

Yet, she could tell, in the way that his eyes squinted just a little, that it hurt him, too. This ridiculous scenario wasn't comfortable for either of them, yet he was insistent. He didn't even like it. The thought made a hysterical giggle build up in her chest. It came out before he pulled away, and she soon found herself laughing against him, shaking slightly. The slight tremors caused new bursts of pain to spread through her, to which she could only respond with more laughter. It was illogical. It was senseless, and she couldn't stop.

He gripped her face tighter in response, nearly drawing blood with his nails. Then, he moved one hand to her shoulder, digging into the already sensitive flesh to try to elicit a response. He was met with nothing but laughter, strange, terrifying, entirely wrong laughter and it irked him to no end.

Yet, he refused to end the kiss. Even though he himself couldn't breathe, and his own lips were bleeding from the intense pressure he exerted, he refused to stop. It felt like he would be admitting defeat somehow.

And then, finally she screamed.

He pulled back the moment he heard the sound, taking a moment to gasp a few decent breaths in, before he faced the girl, satisfaction burning in his eyes. It quickly disappeared, however, when he realized that she wasn't looking at him. She wasn't even paying attention to him.

In what had to be the epitome of bad timing, the pain of the sword had chosen that exact moment to strike the girl.

As she arched beneath him, wracked with spasms, his frustration suddenly built to a peak. She didn't even notice him anymore, lost in her own world of pain. Her screams were exactly the screams he sought, and yet, not causing them himself, he found it immensely aggravating. Suddenly, even the short wait it would take for her to recover her senses, before he could truly begin seemed like too long.

In a moment of rage, he stood up off and kicked her in the stomach, rolling her over. She didn't even notice as he kicked her, again and again. It seemed almost like a child throwing a temper tantrum.

Finally, though, his anger began to wear off and his kicks slowed, and finally gentled. The girl's attack, however, did not. Minutes had passed and she was still screaming with the same intensity as she had at the beginning. For a moment, he debated invading her mind then and there and fixing her, if only so he could continue to vent his rage properly. There was something so distinctly unsatisfying about beating a person when they couldn't feel it.

He looked around for a moment, recovering his senses and trying to make a decision.

That was when he saw the state of his desk, and, more importantly, the absence of the gem it had held. Unthinkingly, he sent a quick blast of wind towards the wreckage, sending bits of wood airborne and left to scatter, but nonetheless confirming that the gem was nowhere to be found.

Had his anger truly gotten the better of him for a moment that he had completely forgotten the gem was here? How long had he been concerned with the girl? More importantly, how much time did that leave the boy to find the gem? Reluctantly, he turned back to face the girl, who was writhing to the best of her ability with her incapacitated limbs.

There was business to handle, yet, with her, but now wasn't the time. He'd have to recover the gem first, deal with her later. That was a shame, but he was sure his anger would keep a few hours. With any luck, a few hours would be all it took.

He knelt beside her and quickly undid the spell on her shoulders and legs. It wasn't that it would be particularly dangerous to leave it alone, but there was always the off chance that something would go wrong. He didn't want to take that chance if he wasn't there to supervise.

That done, he considered momentarily how to imprison her. There were any number of spells he could try, and probably would anyway, but she had already broken out of one. It never hurt to make double sure. And with that thought, and a slow, steady smile creeping across his face, he grabbed her head and without a moment's hesitation, slammed it as hard as he could manage into the ground. She went limp almost instantaneously. There, he thought to himself, that ought to keep till I get back.

* * *

><p>The moment Zelda woke, she wished she were asleep again. Her head was aching, and every time she tried to move her neck it sent sharp twinges of pain through her entire back. Her breath was only coming in short, ragged gasps which made her worry that she had broken another rib. One of her eyes was too swollen to open and the other felt as though it were gummed shut with something, probably blood. She didn't try to force it.<p>

She was becoming all too accustomed to waking up in pain, and had developed a keen sense of what to and what not to do. Goddesses, what she wouldn't do to just feel normal again, even for one day. But if her memories of what had happened in the study were any indication, that wouldn't happen for a very long time.

With one hand, she felt along the surface where she was lying. It was a hard, smooth floor, most likely stone, just like most of the building. So where could that mean she was? She tried to puzzle through this when a foot came down on her hand. Not hard enough to really cause much pain, just enough to hold it in place. She understood the message. That one wasn't meant to hurt her. It was simply a warning. She obediently stilled her hand and waited while he removed his foot.

There was a soft noise as he dropped something on the floor and then the sound of rustling cloth as he lowered himself beside her. Her breath caught in her throat as she heard him moving around but couldn't figure out what he was doing. Just stay alive, she repeated in her head. You'll be fine, as long as you stay alive.

Apparently, he was leaning over her, very close, because suddenly she could feel his breath on her face, and she all but stopped breathing herself in shock. Not again, she thought to herself. And yet, he didn't even touch her. She had to remind herself to breathe as she waited for him to stop prolonging her uncertainty.

At the first touch of his hands, she jerked back, more in shock than in pain. If anything, he was being suddenly gentle, softly running his hand over the skin beneath one of her eyes. She heard him hum thoughtfully and back away. Still no pain, yet, which was surprising. But it was far too much to hope that he had calmed down when she had been unconscious. He had to be planning something.

She gasped in shock when she suddenly felt something wet on her face. Instinctively, she moved to sit up, but she felt his hand press down on her shoulder (her blessedly flesh and blood shoulder, she suddenly realized, to her relief) firmly, but not painfully, until she lay back down. Softly as ever, he ran the wet cloth over her eye, wiping the blood away, a few more times, muttering so she only half heard, "I'm sorry. I've never been much good at healing magic, or I'd take care of the other one, too. But you should be able to open it now, that eye at least."

When he took the cloth away, she took his advice and attempted to open her eyes again and was thankfully that at least the one slid open painlessly.

"Better?" she heard him ask, and she turned her head gently to see him. Any hope she might have had that he had calmed down were immediately torn apart. He didn't look furious anymore, that much was good, but what she saw was even worse.

He was smiling. Not a genuine smile, or even his loathsome, mocking smile. She wasn't sure how a smile could convey such malice, and yet the sight of it made her mind freeze up for a moment. She watched him, her eyes wide. She didn't know someone could ever reveal absolute hatred with a simple smile, and yet he had done just that.

"Zelda, you didn't answer the question." It amazed her that he could keep his tone so light, even inject a hint of sweetness into his words, even as she could read in his face that he wanted to tear her apart. It seemed staying alive was going to be harder than she'd imagined.

At last she managed to nod mutely. "Very good," he answered. "Can you sit up?"

Zelda blinked for a moment, before cautiously nodding again and struggling into a sitting position. The movement sent little shouts of pain down her arms and back, but she ignored them, too terrified to take her eyes of Vaati even for the moment it would take to inspect her injuries.

"Excellent. Truly, you heal very quickly. I would have thought you'd be out until well after dawn."

"Dawn?" She recalled the sun had just gone down when she first left her room. How long could she possibly have been unconscious for. Silently, she dared just enough to attempt to take a look at a window to figure it out but, to her dismay, the room she was in had no windows and was lit entirely by torches.

That was odd. Most of the palace was open and sprawling, where would there be a passageway with no windows? She could only recall having ever seen one.

She froze at the thought. Why would he...? Reluctantly, she tore her gaze away from him for one moment and turned her head to her left, gazing slightly over her shoulder at a sight she thoroughly did not want to see.

This time, when she saw the first statue, one of the matching set of seven, she recognized it immediately. It was not only that she remembered seeing it from before, but rather that the vague sense of familiarity the statue had had before had grown a hundredfold. It was like she was looking at the face of an old friend, someone who's face she knew almost as well as her own. It didn't make any sense, she was completely aware of this. The girl the statue depicted was a complete stranger, especially given that she had lived presumably thousands of years before. Yet, she could remember the girl in great detail, from her laughing eyes, to her ridiculous green dress, to her curly, perpetually messy hair and her high-pitched, oh-so-extremely girlish voice. It was astounding all of the emotions these strange, foreign memories could churn up. All the affection, all the love, all for the phantom remnants of a complete stranger.

She remembered her like an old friend, or at least, well enough to realize just how wrong the statue was.

For one thing, her eyes were too sad. And her shoulders were too far back. Her back was straight and she stood up perfectly prim and rigid. That was horribly wrong. The girl was always slouching and leaning this way and that and Zelda couldn't imagine her sitting still for more than five minutes. Seeing her form frozen in stone was inherently contradictory. And the way the statue was carved, she looked so beautiful, which was, of course, ridiculous. The girl in the green dress, no matter how old she got, was always a child. She was always cute, but she could never be so glamorous, so stiff, the way the statue portrayed her. It was just wrong. Against her will, Zelda suddenly found the sight made her sick to her stomach, and had to look away to resist the urge to vomit.

Taking a few deep breaths to steady herself, Zelda at last looked back at Vaati, unable to quite voice all of the questions in her head. Fortunately, she didn't have to, since he decided to speak first.

"You look shaken," he began, but he could see the sudden spark of recognition in her eyes. "Or could it be you're having flashbacks?"

Zelda had to resist the urge to growl at his flippant attitude. "What did you do to her?"

He shrugged off-handedly. "What makes you think I did anything to her at all? They were the ones who sealed me, remember?"

Zelda shook her head at his denial and, in spite of her best efforts, her disgust was displayed all over her features. "No, no. She's all wrong. She's just so..." Zelda fumbled for another word that could describe it, but truly, nothing was better. "She's just wrong. What did you do to her?"

She was shaking now, and felt a nearly irrepressible urge to throw herself at him and simply attack. Subconsciously, she began to twist her fingers, clenching them into fists one second and then curling them into claws the next. The urge to kill only grew stronger when he laughed. That, or the urge to scream. Maybe to cry. Zelda wasn't even sure what she wanted to do anymore, but sitting there and talking in the presence of that horrible, monstrous statue made her feel as though she crawl out of her skin.

"Perhaps you're overreacting? After all you never knew her."

"No, no," Zelda answered, barely even listening to his words.

"Or perhaps the statue was simply poorly made. After all, I only memories to guide me. By the time I made it, she was long gone."

"What did you do to her?" Zelda screamed. She hadn't meant her voice to come out that way, but she didn't care. It was truly a miracle of self-control that Zelda didn't try to murder him then and there. Yet, some bit of his words rang true and a small piece of her dimly recalled that she didn't know the girl, and doing something stupid in her honor was pointless and probably dangerous. It was only that tiny, rational piece of her mind that held her back. Goddesses, she wondered, how could foreign memories be so compelling?

At last though, years of practice paid off and her rational thinking mind returned to the forefront of her internal debate. After a few moments of hesitation, she at last let her taught muscles relax and, in a much more normal voice, although the shreds of her hysteria still crept beneath the surface, replied, "If you didn't want to talk about her, you wouldn't have brought me here. If not what you did to her, what is it, then, that you wanted to tell me?" She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them in a useless, comforting gesture. Her shoulders, which she suddenly realized to her immense relief were flesh and blood again, were shaking uncontrollably. Heavens, why couldn't she stop shaking?

He shrugged blithely. "Actually, you were spot on the first time. I did bring you here to tell you a little story about her. Don't worry, though. It's short. She didn't last long." His words were chosen deliberately, and he secretly delighted in the horror that washed over Zelda as she listened. Truthfully, he hadn't been expecting a reaction nearly as strong as this, but, then, he hadn't expected her ancestors' memories to come back nearly so powerfully as they did. Most of the time, even with some coaxing, it took years for so many memories to come back. Granted, he had used a few of his own powers to speed the process along and bring the memories to the forefront of her mind, but this Zelda was remarkably receptive to them. And the results were truly remarkable. If he had known that this was all it took to bring the princess to pieces, he would have done it ages ago.

Zelda was looking at the statue now with tears building in her eyes. He smiled. That was going to make things so much more interesting.

"I'm curious, do you really remember her?" Vaati asked, interrupting her thoughts, as he slowly stood up and approached the statue. "Well, obviously you don't really remember her. Those memories you think you have are just foreign invasions in your mind, messing with your thoughts. But nonetheless, how much do they tell you about her? Because I remember. She was a free-spirit. Always flitting about, so hard to tie down." Finally, he was in front of the statue, and raised a hand towards it, pointing at a detail so small that Zelda hadn't noticed it before. Although most of the damage to the statue had been repaired, there was one small, hairline crack across the throat on the statue. He ran his hand over it admiringly, carefully feeling the slight indentation.

"No one could control her, really. She was wild. Kind, of course, of ever so determined to help, but wild, nonetheless. It was in her nature. Of course, I broke her of that."

Zelda looked again at the horrible permutation of the girl's face and turned to look at Vaati again. "What did you do?" she whispered.

"It was simple, really. Just one cut." He gestured again to the hairline crack. "Truthfully, powers over the wind have an infinite number of uses. Everyone imagines hurricanes and raging monsoons, but they forget about the little movements and small air currents. Breathing for example."

Zelda's eyes widened as he reached up to grab the statue by the throat, looking lost for a minute in the memories of the past. The smile he wore made her stomach roil in fear.

"When I first found her, she recognized me. I was surprised, honestly, after all the trouble I went to to disguise myself and infiltrate that small town. But she suspected the whole time, tried so hard to turn those innocent villagers against me. They didn't believe her, of course, the poor girl. She was too young, she was too flighty, too unreliable. Pushed her aside, every time. But she kept trying. Even tried to poison me, if you could believe it. Of course, the townsfolk didn't respond too well to that. Next thing she knows, she's been tried and sentenced. Death."

"They killed her?"

"Oh, no. They tried. Threw her in this little cage. But even that couldn't slow her down. You should have seen her, pacing back and forth for hours on end, so restless. I let her stay there for three days, before the strain of it all nearly pushed her to the edge. But she never stopped, never gave up. Every waking moment, she was searching, prying, trying so damn hard to run away. Three whole days. Then I came for her."

Zelda tried to picture the girl confined to a cage. It was impossible to imagine. This girl was suited to a meadow, or a field, endless spaces to wander. She didn't believe in walls and she wouldn't accept them. To be confined like that would kill her. Zelda swallowed hard to keep down the bile in her throat. The shaking was just getting worse.

"She fought, of course. It's just what you'd expect, really. She kicked and clawed and screamed. She bit, even, drew blood if I recall. Swore up and down she would stop me. Yelled at me to get out, get away. Goddesses, if I hadn't burned down the village already, I imagine half of them would have come running with all the racket. She wouldn't stop, not for anything. So determined to get away.

"And then, just one little cut, a small incision through the trachea, and suddenly she wanted me beside her desperately. One little cut and her lungs were useless, the only thing that kept her alive was my mercy. She quite literally could not breathe if she within a few feet of me, without my magical intervention. And it was amusing while it lasted. Three weeks in fact. She followed me for three entire weeks, never more than five feet behind me, no matter what. Slept beside my bed and everything, like a dog. And I let her, because it was just so interesting to watch this girl, the girl who was always flying around, trapped in a cage she couldn't even see. The walls were too close, she couldn't even pace. And all her declarations of hate, all the time she spent fighting me, boiled down to nothing when knelt on the floor every night, begging me for just one more day. She had screamed, at first. She'd tried to run away but she never traveled beyond the edge of a room before she came back. She lost that spark of freedom within a day. By the end, there wasn't a bit of her left. She gave up."

"She walked away from you?" Zelda asked, trying so hard not to imagine the girl willingly ending her own life. He laughed and the sound made Zelda cringe.

"Oh, no. I imagine she would have, one day, but I got bored first."

"You killed her?"

"Nothing so dramatic. I locked a door. It was her own fault she couldn't get into the room. And I'm afraid I was quite distracted and entirely forgot she was outside. It was alright, though. Someone had taken care of the body before I came out."

Zelda choked. She wanted to curse him, so badly. But, in that instant a flash of an image crossed her mind. She could see the poor girl, broken, fallen, her nails broken from scratching so hard at the door in vain. It was disgusting, and the sheer horror of it all made her throat swell shut. It didn't matter that she didn't truly know the girl. She felt like a friend, and that was all that mattered. She would kill him. She wanted to kill him. She wanted to end him and then smash the statue until there was nothing left of that story. How she wished she could just reach into her mind and tear the memories out and burn them, until not a trace of that awful tale remained.

Goddesses, she wanted to do something, anything. She wanted to kill or to die or to fight or even to surrender and forget. The conflicting desires swirled in her brain and mutated until she wasn't even sure what she wanted or why, but she knew she wanted to do something, something big, to end the horrible anguish inside of her.

But instead of all that, she simply cried.

The tears poured soundlessly down her cheeks and she let out a deep moan, so barely human that she didn't recognize it as her own.

"How could you?" she finally managed to gasp out.

"Oh it was quite easy, she wasn't even fully trained yet, didn't have a hope of defending herself."

"What?" Zelda asked, not quite sure that she had heard his words properly. It was with horror, but not disbelief, that she began to realize the truth. It was even worse.

"Well, by the time I escaped the seal the first time, her ancestor was long since dead. So, I settled for the next best thing and found her progeny creeping around wearing her mantle. She was unprepared, untested. It was easy."

"She was innocent," Zelda whispered in contempt.

"Innocent? Really?"

"She wasn't the one who fought you. She never did anything to you." Her voice shuddered and cracked. She had was innocent. She wasn't even the one he wanted revenge on and he did it all anyway. He grinned in return, watching her breaking beneath the force of her rage, her terror and her grief.

He shrugged in contempt. "She did try to poison me," he muttered in an offhand voice.

"That wouldn't have done anything," Zelda spat. "A monster like you cannot die."

If he was offended by the insult, he didn't show it. "True enough. So?"

"So she never hurt you, not once."

He closed his eyes for second and took a deep breath before he opened his eyes again to stare at her intently.

"Neither did you, princess. If anything, you've done me a favor, getting me out of the sword, reclaiming my palace for me, practically delivering yourself to me. Do you think, for a second, that that will earn you mercy?"

Zelda heard the words and suddenly stopped. Her face went blank and she blinked in surprise at herself.

Of course it wouldn't stop him. Nothing so simple as justice or fairness would ever hold any sway over him. She knew that. She had known that from the beginning. That was why she opposed him. In the whole time she had known him, she had never doubted he was a monster. She had not let her guard down if she could help it. During this whole journey, even if she didn't know the extent of his magical abilities, she knew exactly what he was capable of. She knew the pain he would inflict on everyone, innocent or not if he had the chance. Those were the risks she had accepted coming in.

So why was she suddenly letting it get to her? Why was she suddenly crying? Although, she admitted it could be a partial after effect of suddenly feeling someone else's memories, she felt that it was more than that.

With these thoughts, her heart slowly began to slow down and her tears dried. What was she doing? If she thought he was such a monster than her job was to fight him. Now especially, was not the time to break down. For not the first time, she wished that Link would hurry up. Not only to help defeat Vaati, but also to stand beside her. She was always stronger when she wasn't alone, when she had him there. Those days where Vaati's block had kept her from contacting him had been very nearly hell. It was good to be in control of her own mind again.

Suddenly, she realized something entirely disturbing. The haphazard shields that she had placed around her mind in the tower were gone. Not just gone, decimated, like they had never existed in the first place. They were weak, sure, but she knew they wouldn't have simply dissolved, and even that would have left traces that they had been there. But, there was nothing left .Someone had torn through her mind recently, someone in a rage, angry enough to completely annihilate her defenses. It didn't take that much deduction to figure out who.

But why? The only reasons thus far he had to try that were to fix the pain. But, he had stated before that the pain held her in thrall to him, so there was no way he would try to fix it when the final confrontation was drawing so near. So, there was no reason for him to want to invade.

But those memories had come back awfully fast. She knew girls in her line were prone to things like this, her mother had even mentioned once feeling a vague sense of déjà vu when she looked at certain old paintings, but she had never heard her mother complain of feelings this strong. Even though she was young when her mother died, she was certain that she would have left something to warn her if the visions could be this powerful. The way she felt about the girl, the sudden, irrational attachment, was a liability in a life or death situation. If her mother, or any of her ancestors had known that it could happen like this, they would have recorded it and left it for her. They would have done everything in their power to make sure she and her descendants knew. This didn't seem right.

And for that matter, if the memories were going to come back so strong, why hadn't they come back stronger the first time she had seen the statue. Why now, what was different?

It seemed obvious, suddenly, that he had been the one to bring the memories out, reaching into her mind and pulling them from some dark recess. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that the memories were true, but he had amplified them, made them strong enough to drag her to her knees and cry.

And he had done it on purpose. He wanted her to cry and scream and hate him with every fiber of her being. Hate him so much that it filled her up and made her useless, until the energy of hating him took so much out of her that she couldn't even summon the will to fight. Hate him so much that she'd make a mistake. Hate him so much she'd give in.

The effect would have been temporary, most likely, a day or two and she'd snap out of it, become her normal self. Even a few hours in a calm, dark space might have been sufficient. But a few hours could guarantee his victory, if it were the right few hours.

He wanted her out of the picture, for now at least, and this was how he chose to do it. She had already broken out of her room, torn down his shield, and infiltrated his entire palace. When the final battle finally came, he would probably try to lock her somewhere, but he was no longer fully confident in his own capacity to keep her confined, so he had turned to her own mind to do the job.

He wanted her incapacitated and soon. Why?

"Alright, princess?" Vaati asked, watching her curiously, with more than a hint of suspicion reflected in his voice.

Suddenly, she realized that she had been sitting blank-faced and perfectly still for three entire minutes, and that he had caught on that she had realized something. But she needed more time, a chance to figure out the rest of what was happening. She only hoped that she could pass her silence off as a state of shock. If she could somehow send him back on his rant towards whatever bizarre mental trap he had planned next, she was sure she could keep him from figuring out what she had realized. Whatever he had done in the past, it was plain that he took great delight in it. She only hoped this sick joy would be enough to keep him distracted and make him overlook a few key details.

Slowly, she looked him in the eyes, careful to keep her face generally blank but allow just a hint of fear to show through. Out of the corner of her eye, she took another quick peek at the statue and let the revulsion fill her. Even though she knew what he was planning, she still couldn't stop the disgust from welling up inside of her at the sight, although she no longer felt quite so physically ill. That was good. If she could keep it under control, it would be fine. She just needed enough hate to seem convincing, not too much that she stopped thinking.

She chose the most generic words she could to start off with, words she could imagine he had heard hundreds of times before. She just needed something to remind him what he was trying to accomplish in the first place. Something to make him believe he was succeeding.

She chose something simple. "You're evil," she whispered, keeping her voice low and making it waver ever so slightly. "What kind of monster could do that?"

A little cliché, even for her purposes, but it seemed to work because he smiled and looked over his shoulder, towards where the remaining statues stood. "That was hardly the worst of it. What I did to them was far worse."

It was too dark to quite make the other statues out, but Zelda was positive that the moment she saw their faces, all of their memories would come flooding back as well to assault her rather meager defenses. This was not going to be pleasant, but she would hold up, somehow.

She wondered, though, at the end of the hallway was her own statue. She shuddered to imagine what he would do when they reached it, but she pushed the thought back down.

For the moment, she had no spare room for emotions or fear. If she was to get through this, she needed absolute control. She needed to be empty and mindless. She needed to be colder than he was.

There would be a time to mourn. When this was over, she would have a lot to lament and apologize for, and she would do it loudly and completely. In the meantime, she would freeze her heart, abandon her friends, ditch any compassion she had and keep herself together. And she would fight him using all of the mental capacity she still had left.

That was probably her only hope, anyhow.

* * *

><p>Hey, all. Japan is going well, but it is taking up writing time (sorry about that). So far, the theme of my trip has been Japanese teenagers who have apparently made it their mission to dress up like David Bowie from Labyrinth while riding public transportation. Just yesterday, there was a guy on the train with (I swear) the exact haircut, plus a really similar outfit except that his vest was embroidered with the phrase "Arnold's Original Egg Tart" and he was carrying a huge stuffed Totoro. I think that guy could easily be my best friend ever.<p>

Well, on another note, okay, bit of a long wait on this one (not as long as last time, but still, annoyingly long). This was the chapter that would not end. Actually, it wasn't supposed to end here, but it needed to stop being written before I put my face through my computer screen.

Remember my problems with hero/villain interaction? Well, they got worse. I'll be honest with everyone here, I don't get torture, which is probably a good thing in real life, but really sucks when you have to write it. I was really going nuts trying to figure out what Vaati's thinking during this whole thing, because I know he can get angry and lose control, but I also felt like that couldn't be his only motivation, because a mindless, raving, lunatic is not actually as scary as a non-lunatic who just happens to be raving at a given moment.

So, I have re-written this approximately fourteen different ways. I couldn't figure out where I wanted to second half to be set, or even if I wanted a second half. I swear, at one point, I got so fed up that I wrote a five hundred word essay on what would happen if everything took place inside a Denny's in Iowa.

So, in conclusion (sorry for ranting at you for paragraphs on end, but after a month of warring with my computer, I need a little author's note therapy- feel free to ignore it), if this seems weird, or you have a much better idea for how torture is supposed to work that you would like to send my way, please do. I did this to the best of my ability, but my knowledge in this field is lacking, and someday, if I ever get over the growing hate that I have for this chapter, I may like to do some edits.

Okay, and that's the end of my obnoxiously author's note/ pity party/ catharsis experience. As always, read, review, enjoy.

-Ornamental Reciprocity

PS: We have officially achieved 50 reviews! Thank you everyone, considering I was hoping to get 30 for the entire story. All of you guys are awesome. So thanks for that.

Now I am tempted to pad this authors note out for another 44 words just so my word count on this chapter will be exactly 10,000, because I think I would be more fond of this chapter if it was, even though I've come to loath it. So prepare yourselves. Wait. I just made it. Hooray.


	16. Amateur

In the long silence, the building groaned. They both looked up in surprise at the noise. At first it sounded like the statues were moaning, quietly, and then the hallway itself, just a bit louder. The sound grew and grew and soon, it seemed, the whole building joined in the eerie rumbling. The floor began to vibrate and a distant rattling joined the mix. Zelda could feel the buzz in her clenched teeth. She hunched her shoulders and bowed her head to her chest instinctively to guard against the noise.

Then there were crashes. Loud, violent crashes that threatened to deafen her if they didn't just tear the whole world apart first. Any second now, she thought, the floor would just rip in half under the pressure of the sound. Her ears began to ring and her eyes began to water, and the vibrations now were in her jaw and in her spine. She had never known before that sound could be a physical force, something that could be felt as powerfully as a hand on a shoulder. But it could, and it hurt.

She wanted to curl up on the floor and cover her ears until it stopped and she could breathe again. But, she saw Vaati jump to his feet, and that was reason enough for her to do the same. His eyes were cold and his jaw was clenched tight, but the corner of his mouth twitched involuntarily. His fingers had curled into fists and his arms shook even as he tried to hold them still.

Zelda didn't realize she had figured it out until she had already stood up. Her legs were weaker than she had anticipated and she clutched onto the arm of that cursed statue to maintain her balance. And then, before she had even thought through her discovery or her plan, she pushed off the statue and flung herself at him.

There was a split second when she was airborne, her arms spread crookedly in front of her and her legs dangling loose in midair, when she thought how feeble this attack really was. Her only advantage lay in the fact that he would never expect a physical attack. It was such a hopeless endeavor, he had assumed she was too smart to try it.

At that moment, flying helplessly through the air, she really wished she had been.

The force of her weight against him, weak though it may be, was enough to make him stumble. Zelda wrapped her arms around his waist and clung to him as tightly as possible as the two of them fell hard to the ground. Zelda's wrists were pinned beneath both their body weights, and she had to bite her lip to keep in a gasp as they were nearly crushed. Neither of them could hold in pained grunts as they hit the floor.

For a moment they laid still, confusion and pain fogging both their minds, before Vaati realized that she must have figured out, also, what the rumbling noise was. That noise was shocking, no doubt, but when he had jumped up, he hadn't looked surprised. He had looked furious. There was only one possibility that could incur his wrath so easily.

It seemed that Link had found the gem much faster than he had expected, and was on his way up at that very moment. Vaati, it seemed, had choked on his own rage, and could no longer even produce words to express his anger. The noises that were coming out of his mouth were nonsensical and primitive and insane, halfway between a grunt and a scream. He tore at her arms, scratching. She had never realized his fingernails were so sharp. He grabbed at her and yanked and pulled, his teeth bared and his lips pulled back into a snarl that seemed almost animal. Little droplets of spit flew from his mouth when he twisted his head side to side erratically.

She had never seen him like this. He had been angry before. He had shown madness before. But never had he acted so inhuman, so monstrous. This creature, this howling creature, was the demon of the stories, the demon in the blade.

She paled and buried her face in his chest. She didn't want to look into his eyes any more. Besides, if she just laid still, maybe he would calm down and the demon would dive beneath the surface again. She just had to hold on. Every second that she held him here was a second that he didn't spend after Link. Link was in Vaati's territory now, and the mage knew every inch of the building. He had every advantage, and the chances of winning a straight fight were slim. An extra minute could make all the difference, and if she could provide that minute, than it was worth it. All the same, the horrid noises he made and the way his limbs moved so erratically made her heart quake and her stomach tremble.

Something heavy came down on the back of her head. She screamed for all she had before she could stop herself, the sound muffled by his flesh. It came down again. This time, she couldn't manage a scream, only a silent, spluttering noise that left her mouth hanging open. The next blow hit her directly on her ear. There was a grinding noise from her neck as her head snapped to one side, exposing her face at last. With her face out and unprotected, she could finally see what he was doing. He raised his fist back again.

She knew that she shouldn't let go of him, that she should hide her face and try to endure it. She couldn't fight him, but she could try to hold him off for as long as she was conscious. But something about seeing his fist coming towards her made just hanging on impossible. Even for Wisdom, it seemed, instinct overruled logic sometimes. She twisted and writhed, struggling to free just one hand. At last, her left hand came loose from beneath him, and she threw it up in front of her in a desperate attempt to catch his hand before it struck her.

His fist flew through the air and as she reached, her vision swam. Her hand barely missed his fist, but her fingers snagged onto the bracelet at his wrist. Pain jolted down her fingers as they were yanked and twisted. There was a crack and she cried out. And for a terrible moment, her arm bent and it seemed that she didn't have the strength to slow his fist at all. Then, suddenly, the thread on the bracelet, already worn with age, snapped. Her hand was flung loose to the side, but it seemed that the pressure had been just enough. His fist shot to the side of her face, hitting her hair as it passed. She breathed a momentary sigh of relief, before he swung his hand back towards her face in a powerful slap. With her hands no longer around his waist, the slap sent her rolling off him, her right arm now pinned beneath his body.

She gasped in pain and moved to struggle away, but hesitated for a split second. She hadn't thought that he had the sheer strength to hit like that. But he managed it, which meant that he was augmenting his own strength with magic. He was using magic.

Suddenly, it occurred to her that she had made a mistake in choosing to lay still and hope he calmed down. When he had been angry, he had been horrifying, but he also hadn't used magic. He hadn't been thinking enough to realize he had an easy solution. He had made a mistake. She realized, now, that this could have been useful. But now, she caught a glimpse of his eyes and recognized the old spark of intelligence in them. The beast was down, for the moment. Zelda was simultaneously relieved and terrified. The collected, reasoning Vaati was much less unsettling, but he was also much more dangerous.

She began to struggle harder to free her arm. And to her surprise, he shifted his weight and allowed her to scamper away from him. She had gained about ten feet when suddenly, a force struck her from behind. The blast of wind took her feet out from under her. She would have tumbled to the ground if she hadn't collided first with the statue of the green girl. Her forehead smashed directly into the girl's throat. She would have thought he was mocking her but he seemed beyond that point. He was out to hurt.

Zelda pushed off from that statue and dropped to the ground, anticipating the next blast of wind, which took off one of the statue's outstretched arms and cracked its torso. As quickly as she could, she rolled around the statue's base and hid behind it, already raising her arms in front of her as she did.

The shield that she finally managed to create was small, hovering in the air in front of her, but it would have to do. She lunged out from behind the statue just as another blast hit it, shattering its torso and sending a large chunk of stone exactly where she had been sitting, scraping her shoulder on the way down. She took a few running, stumbling steps forward and used the force of her momentum to fling the shield at him. The shield did not make a very effective projectile. It was misshapen and not as aerodynamic as she would have liked, but it hit its target, colliding had with his stomach and forcing him back a few steps.

Each breath now entered her body like a knife, cutting deep into her lungs in short gasps. She could feel the tears on her cheeks and hear the incoherent roars coming from her mouth, but she barely registered them. Instead, she focused all her efforts on pulling the shield back towards her, doing her best to raise it in front of her as he launched his next attack. But, the wind moved faster than the shield and enveloped it before it could reach her. The air compressed the shield in all directions, unevenly, squeezing until it shattered. The tiniest twitch of a smile appeared on his face as Zelda hurried to make a replacement shield.

A tiny flick of gold had just appeared in front of her, when she was hit from behind. She gasped as she landed on her knees, and then made a terrible realization. Her hands grasped at her throat as she realized she couldn't breathe. His smile had grown now. Desperately, one hand clutched at her chest and her mouth opened and closed aimlessly. She stared at him, but he didn't move, watching impassively the lack of air betrayed her. It seemed he would just wait until she was unconscious, or possibly dead, before he made another move.

Her arms and legs wouldn't quite respond the way they should as she tried to stand up. Her feet were heavy and they wouldn't stay beneath her knees. She could feel her heartbeat, each moment pounding harder and harder against her chest. It was beginning to hurt. She couldn't stop swallowing, something in her throat wasn't listening to her anymore. When she finally managed to stand, it seemed that she couldn't stay upright much longer. She wasn't quite sure, anymore, where she stood in space exactly.

His smile looked like it could break his face as he walked towards her. She had never known it was possible to walk with such hatred, but there it was. Then, when he stood in front of her, where he was sure she could see, he slowly raised one arm. In a panic, she tried to summon something to protect herself, when it hit.

Zelda's eyes squeezed shut. There was a flash so bright she could see it through her eyelids and a feeling of squeezing. Every inch of her felt the pressure, something wrapping around her tighter and tighter, like she was being crushed. It was so far beyond pain that didn't even hurt properly, like she was bound so tightly even the pain couldn't reach all the way from her limbs to her brain. Instead, it was sickening. Her stomach roiled. Her world tilted. She would have vomited, if she had been able to move.

Finally, she cracked her eyes open, ready to see what he had brought forth to trap her, but was surprised to see only the thin golden haze of her own shield around her, protecting her, it seemed. But there, just outside her shield was the a slight haziness. Everything she saw on the other side looked distorted and muted. Whatever that haze was, it pressed in so hard, she could feel the pressure even through the protection of her shield.

The shield she had summoned was flimsy. She poured all her strength into it, her outstretched arms aching with the effort, her vision going black, and still the shield threatened to crack. On the other side of the wall, through the haze, she could see Vaati make another strange gesture.

Air flooded her lungs and she gratefully gasped at it. It was impossible to take deep breaths from the constriction, but she could take little tiny sips. It was a miracle. The blackness receded from her vision ever so slightly and she felt just the tiniest bit more stable. She blinked in confusion and tried to make out Vaati's face through the distortion, without much success. She didn't realize how close he actually was to her, until she heard his voice.

"It's a compression shield. Didn't I mention them?" The quietest of laughs. "Must have slipped my mind. They're quite simple. They just squeeze and squeeze until they can squeeze no further. They don't always kill, but they've been known to. And the bodies, when you find them, are completely unidentifiable. If I were you, I would hold onto that little shield of yours, princess."

Another quiet laugh and shield gave another squeeze tight enough to produce a whimper.

The blur that was his face moved somehow even closer to the surface of the shield. "If you're alive when I return, I'll see you when this is over."

As soon as the words were out, he turned and disappeared down the hallway. She couldn't see where he went. Everything past a certain distance was unrecognizable, just a far-off, wavy blackness.

And the pressure around her, if anything, seemed to grow stronger in his absence. How was that possible? Or else, she was just getting weaker. In her own head, she cursed violently. The pressure was too much, just too much.

If she could make her shield, bigger, stronger, she was sure she could break through his. Her arms strained with the effort, shaking, until her shoulders felt like they could simply tear off her body entirely. Her legs were burning, fire spreading up her torso into her chest. The taste of blood was on her tongue; her lips were cut where the pressure had forced them against her teeth. She could breathe now, but it just barely made a difference. She strained and she pulled and she tapped into every last bit of strength she had, but there was no denying it. She just simply had nothing left. Holding up her own flimsy shield was the limit of her empty reserves.

Damn it, she thought. If she could just rest a little, maybe she could recover something, but there was no such thing as rest when merely standing still drained all her energy. She was straining now, to no purpose, and goddesses it hurt. But Link was coming now. Any minute, and she wouldn't be dead by the time he got there.

She didn't know for sure if the compression shield would really kill her, but she wouldn't find out. She swallowed hard and tried to think. There must be a way to gain back her strength, something stronger than sheer force of will. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to remember her last trip through this hallway.

The crystal, one of the two into which she had poured her strength, was somewhere near here, she was sure. If she could somehow draw her strength out of that, she could break free. But how in heavens could she...

She paused. There was a source of power much closer. His bracelet had come off during the fight. The thread had snapped and it had fallen to the ground. She didn't think he had stopped to pick it up before he left. When she heard him walk away, his footsteps didn't pause, did they? She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to remember. No, she was pretty sure he just walked away, no pauses. He must have forgotten about it.

Then, it had to be in the room, somewhere. She could find it. The shield pressed onto her head too much to turn it, and anyway the haze was too thick to make out something that small. But to her right, out of the corner of her eye, she could just see a white blur, which she was sure was the remains of the statue.

She tried to remember the events of the battle in her head. So, if the statue was to her right, then the bracelet should be somewhere in front of it, so it would be in front of her, to the right. But, that still left the question of how exactly to tap into it.

If it worked like the bigger crystals, then it would have to touch her shield to be useful. There had to be a way to drag it over to her.

It was a longshot, but Zelda realized that she had to try. She may not have the energy to make strengthen her shield when his was pressing down on her, but that didn't mean she didn't have the strength to make a second one. It was only a speck, but that was all it had to be. It was strange, but the tiny light the shield gave off cleared the haze just a little. She could just make out the little sphere, bobbing gently in the air in front of her.

She pushed it forward through the air. It moved sluggishly, barely drifting through the air. She poured a little more strength into the tiny ball. The shield around her faltered and buckled. The air was squeezed out of her lungs and her eyes bugged. She tried, but she couldn't seem to push her shield out any more than pull in a trickle of air. Anymore and it was going to crush her. There was no going back now. This had to work.

She let the shield around her weaken, felt the crushing embrace around her, watched the golden light around her begin to fade, but it didn't matter. There was no other choice- everything would have to go into the little one. The smaller shield weaved through the air, but it was moving, at least. And, on the plus side, with her own magic dimmer, the haze cleared a little more and she could make out some of the surroundings.

She lowered the shield down to the floor, until she had an almost clear view of the ground. There! It was lying on the ground, its crystal shining in the golden light. frayed thread was splayed carelessly across the ground. But, more importantly, a tiny bead that must have served as the clasp was left exposed a few inches away from the jewel itself.

That was lucky. She was going to have to drag it to her, but she didn't dare touch the shield to the gem directly. She had one shot at this; she had to make sure she activated the magic on the right shield. Her entire body shook, but the shield held steady as she pressed the tiny thing down behind the bead and began to pull it towards her.

She heard a soft scraping noise as the bracelet was dragged towards her. Fifteen feet had never seemed such a mind-numbingly large distance as the shield and the crystal inched towards her. It was painfully slow, but she didn't dare move any faster. No, as long as she didn't pass out before it reached her, then it was better to move slow. Twice, her shield almost slipped from its position, almost touched the crystal. She paused to suck in a tiny scrap of air, before devoting herself to her task again.

At last, the shield arrived at the base of her feet with its precious cargo. This was the moment. She hesitated. It was quite a gamble, she knew, but it seemed to make sense. She glanced up at the power pressing down on her, poised to crush her if she messed up. His shield, which was also very capable of absorbing the power in the crystal, and which would kill her instantly if it did. There was only time for a quick prayer to the goddesses that she had guessed right.

She pulled the shield towards her. The crystal passed through the layer of magic around her, and the world exploded in a flash of golden light.

When Zelda awoke again, she was only dimly aware of the fact that she was breathing. But the pain in her chest with each inhalation was proof. She was breathing. She was alive. Her first reaction was to break down into tears, whether from relief or pain, she wasn't sure. Her fingers were numb and swollen, her arms and legs screamed, one of her eyes was still swollen shut, there was blood on her face, in her mouth, down her chest, but she was alive. Amazingly, wonderfully alive. She curled up in a ball and sobbed, a stupidly large smile on her face, thanking every god and goddess she knew for her ridiculously improbable triumph.

The compression shield had squeezed in towards her. It made sense that it would be an inward facing shield, which would mean that it didn't direct any magic out, like her shield did.

It was a guess, at best, but when she had activated the crystals around Vaati's palace, he had told her to that the crystal looked to absorb magic. She had hoped that when she pulled the crystal through, if no magic was directed towards it, then it wouldn't respond to his shield. It would sense hers first.

It was wild speculation and nothing short of a miracle that it had been successful.

She rolled on her back, unable to stop the flow of tears, yet utterly uncaring. She sat awash in her triumph for a minute or two.

That was before the cold pit of terror grew in her, when she realized she had no idea how long she had been unconscious.

She snapped up, swinging her head side to side in search of clues. She was still by herself in the room. Link definitely hadn't been here. But she didn't think Vaati had either. After all the trouble he went to contain her, if he found her loose, he wouldn't just leave her there. But just to be safe, she called his name out. No response. She was probably alone then, for the moment. It could be that Link had already won, but he just hadn't found her yet. The palace was big and he wouldn't know where to start looking. Or else-

A loud crash interrupted her thoughts, and she rose to her feet. Or else, the fight was still going on.

It hurt to walk, but not as badly as she was expecting. At least the little sleep seemed to have rejuvenated her some tiny amount. The pain was manageable, and her legs were supporting her weight. That was good, because she was sure that before this was over, she was going to need to run.

She surprised herself when she managed a light jog down the hall. She reached the door and opened it, before the world flashed white, tilted and she fell to her knees, retching. But, she got to her feet again, and although she was a little less steady, she took off jogging again. There was nothing left in her to vomit up anyway.

Fortunately, she did not have to run very far. Once she stepped out into the open air, it was not hard to locate the battle. Speared straight through the gap next to one of the bridges rose a massive tower, so large it had knocked out parts of the surrounding architecture, walkways and stairs had simply crumbled away. The already-battered palace seemed to be hanging just a little lopsided off the tower, like a piece of meat speared on a knife.

Zelda stared at the new structure in front of her. The Tower of Winds, the stones still glowing with the magic that brought it into being. It was windowless and door less, but coming from the roof she could hear the sounds of the battle. There were crashes and grunts, and an alarming scream. Then there was a sickening squeal and Zelda watched a Moblin propelled from the rooftop. It fell through the air, crying and screaming, and landed with a terrible crunch at Zelda's feet. It didn't move again.

She craned her neck trying to get a glimpse of the fighting, but they were too high up. She would need to find a way up there, somehow. Although there was no way into the Tower of Winds itself, one of Vaati's towers stood very close by, rising even slightly higher. And it had stairs. That was good enough.

Zelda took off running again up the narrow stairs that spiraled around the outside. They were steep and the stone was slippery, forcing Zelda to lean as close to the wall as she could. It wasn't nearly close enough. The winds were raging as she approached the top. Eventually, she found she had to slow down, and finally to drop to all fours and crawl up the last few steps, like a bug clinging to the side of a window. When at long last she was poised above the battlefield, she didn't dare stand up again, for if she did, she was sure she would be blown off her precarious landing. She narrowed her eyes. She did not come this far just to fall unceremoniously to her death.

On the battlefield, Link had his arms raised in a defensive block against a bulky figure. He looked a bad off as she did. His face was coated with sweat and there were three terrible, bleeding scratches like a claw mark, stretching over his left eye and down his chin. His mouth was swollen and Zelda couldn't differentiate between skin and bruise any more. Nonetheless, it was a relief to see his familiar features, even if they were twisted into a brand new look of fury. His eyes burned, like she never seen before, and she could see the tension in every one of his muscles, as he held his sword up against a series of heavy blows.

For a moment, it was surreal, seeing her lifelong friend fighting for his life, for her life, just only a dozen feet away from her. The sheer strangeness of it all paralyzed her for a split second, before she realized that whatever Link was fighting was too large to be Vaati. She blinked again and suddenly realized that he wasn't fighting Vaati at all. It was a Moblin.

She scanned the battlefield frantically, before she found him. Vaati was off in the distance, hovering just off the edge of the battlefield. A purple haze hovered in front of him, slowly contracting and shaping itself. Rough legs and torso formed, the approximate shape of a head began to appear. He was summoning more of the monsters.

Quickly, Zelda glanced back at Link. He had fended off the blows of the Moblin and managed to knock it back a few steps. He raised his swords and then drove it down for a finishing blow, completely unaware of the almost-finished Moblin raising its spear behind him.

Just as the purple smoke began to dissolve into flesh, Zelda summoned a shield in front of her and flung it forward, before she even realized what she was doing, powered only by a primal, protective rage. It struck the Moblin in the head, knocking it sideways. Fortunately, the Moblin, like all Moblins, was designed to be top-heavy. It lost its footing quickly and rolled over the edge.

Unfortunately, the chaos had alerted both of the fighters to her presence. Suddenly, she found herself facing down two sets of eyes, and she couldn't be sure which was worse. Link stared at her in terror, and although she was sure it was concern, it wasn't easy to see him looking so horrified at her. But Vaati's face was just chillingly blank.

She scraped her mind for something to do, something to say, but she was interrupted by Vaati's voice, quiet and yet somehow inescapable.

"Princess. Perhaps you'd care to join us properly."

Zelda did her best to grab the stone steps in preparation, but it was useless. When the tornado struck her it plucked her flailing off the ground and deposited her painfully on the ground atop the tower. She fell face down, her arms and limbs splayed awkwardly. But she was quick to right herself, scrambling to her feet.

In the time she had been down, Link had moved in front of her, his sword out and his arms and legs spread wide, as though he could protect her simply by being large. Softly, she laid a hand on his shoulder, feeling him flinch beneath her touch. He dared to quickly turn his head over his shoulder to look at her, just as she took a step to move beside him. She summoned one last shield, in front of the two of them, and his eyes widened in surprise as he watched the golden layers fly together. Zelda just offered a sympathetic smile, which he could just barely manage to return.

With a heavy breath, the two turned away from each other to face the wind mage.

Hello, everyone. It has been quite a while, hasn't it? I am aware of this and you have my absolute apologies. These last few months have been weird. Not necessarily bad, just weird. Although this is not meant as an excuse, here is (in no particular order) a list of things which have happened since the last update:

1. I got trapped inside a puppet for over an hour. I had to text my roommate to come and save me.

2. I fell on top of the same elderly man on the Tokyo subway on two separate occasions, and then proceeded to scare him by declaring in Japanese that I drank his hometown. I need to practice my Japanese. I think I panic a bit too easily whenever I actually have to use it. (And since I will officially be in Japan all of next year, this is probably important.)

3. I was in Cuba for a bit. That was interesting.

4. I came out to my friends. (Although, does it count as coming out if you're asexual? I was never completely clear on that.) They were fine with it and not particularly surprised. It was okay.

5. I got evacuated twice due to weather related phenomena.

6. I felt extremely guilty about not updating. So much so, that my roommate and I ate an entire roll of cookie dough. I blame this of ff guilt, and not on my uncontrollable love of cookie dough. (Though, in fairness, it was midterm week, and anything goes during midterm week.)

Also, I finally got around to making a picture for this story, which seems to be the thing to do now. So, behold! The conglomeration of everything I know how to do on MS paint. (Seriously though, if anyone can think of anything better, do let me know- I am not an artist.)

And, before I sign off, I want to give an extremely late thank you to Tinselplease, for her incredible reviews and also for helping me out on a little project. What she wrote to me was probably the best birthday present ever and I owe her a lot for that. So, here is a terribly belated thank you:

Thank you! (Three exclamation points of gratitude)

And, as usual, thank you to all reviewers and to anyone who is still around despite the awkward, unplanned (and definitely over) hiatus.

So, as always, read, review, enjoy, and I will see you much sooner than last time.

'Till Next Time

Ornamental Reciprocity

PS: Is it just me, or has there been an increase in Vaati related stories recently? Is this a trend, or am I crazy?


	17. En Prise

The first blow came from her left, around her little shield. Her right knee shuddered beneath her weight, but held firm. The second blow came a second later and hit her shield head on. The golden light flickered and dimmed a little, and Zelda could see the glances of concern on Link's face as the shadows passed over it. But the light returned, held steady a moment, and Zelda let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Then, a heartbeat later, another blow from the front knocked her hand off Link's shoulder and sent him stumbling back a few steps. He resumed his place beside her, casting his head back and forth warily.

That was the trouble with pure wind magic. She couldn't see a thing. She couldn't predict a damn thing.

Two more blasts rained down in succession, knocking her into Link's side and then sending her down to the ground a moment later. Her shield was still there, but it was too small and could only protect so much.

She had never seen Vaati using all of his combat abilities before, but she suspected it took only the merest thought for him to redirect his abilities around her tiny wall.

That said, he didn't seem in any particular hurry to use those abilities. These attacks he was using now were just pecks at their defenses. He wasn't looking to crush them, necessarily. He was testing, looking for the obvious weak points he could exploit quickly, from a distance.

She knew the fear he felt. The gleaming edge of the sword reflected the yellow light of her shield, until it looked like a beast of molten steel. That blade was what he feared more than anything else in the world. He would try to keep the battle small and controlled and as far away from himself as possible.

Well, then. That meant it was her job not to let him do that.

Apparently, she and Link were of the same mind on that idea. He gestured forward with his head and pointed his right hand ever so slightly towards her shield. Receiving the message, she braced herself and pushed just as he took off sprinting. Her shield catapulted forward, protecting Link's left side as he dashed. His right hand slipped into a pocket, pulling out a round, black ball. It wasn't until an orange light sprung from the top of it that she saw what it was.

A bomb.

Link ran forward, trailing a stream of gray smoke behind him, over his right shoulder. He stopped just a few feet short of Vaati, his momentum driving him to the ground. The bomb left his hand.

For a second, it made a perfect arc. It would hit.

The gray trail of smoke shifted suddenly above his head. A second later the bomb halted mid-air and spun around. Link kicked wildly as it sped back towards his face.

It ricocheted off his shin, spinning away. The smoke trail shifted. The bomb stopped, reversed.

Struggling to his feet, he batted it away with his hands, earning a burn on his palm and a splintered scream. Zelda could hear it from across the battlefield. The wick was starting to glow a dull blue. Seconds left now.

Zelda was ready this time, though.

The smoke trail shuddered. The bomb switched directions. It flew through the air, two, three, four. And then, she screamed, "Down!"

On reflex alone, he dropped to the floor, grinding his teeth and upper lip into the stone. Another scream when two teeth chipped. There was blood dripping from his mouth again.

The moment he was down, Zelda pulled her shield down on top of him, knocking it hard into his back.

The bomb kept flying forward, over him and the shield. It gained an extra foot or two, but the wick ran out before it could stop. The shrapnel pounded the shield. Even through it, Link could feel the taps of the hot metal shards against his back, his neck, his legs, his head. The blast would have killed him.

Zelda's shield lifted itself from his back and he scurried away. Unfortunately, the blast hadn't had the same effect on Vaati. It had forced him back a few feet, but standing off the edge of the platform, hovering in the air, didn't seem to bother him at all. If anything, he was harder to reach now than before.

Link kept trying. There were eleven arrows left in his quiver, and his bow was still in reach. He fired off three without pause. They all veered erratically, and then simply dropped out of the air.

Zelda was shouting something. "No good. Come back." Vaati was simply floating there, unmoving, with that unnervingly calm look. He didn't even seem to have flinched.

Link sprinted back under cover of her shield. He didn't need to speak for Zelda to know he was out of ideas. Projectiles were no good clearly. But they couldn't get close enough to use his sword.

"The bombs," Zelda whispered. "The smoke trails move. You can -".

She didn't finish the sentence. Her words had gotten louder. Much louder.

It hadn't occurred to her that he could alter the acoustics, but she supposed it made sense. She cursed, audibly. It would be impossible to communicate plans now, at least not with words.

Luckily, it seemed Link had understood what she meant. His right hand gestured ever so slightly towards the lantern kept at his waist band. An old, beat up thing with a storm lid built to keep the wind out. That would do.

If they could just light without him seeing, she was sure Vaati wouldn't notice it once it already was glowing. Which led Zelda to yet another terrible idea.

She didn't know what possessed her to do it. There was a very good chance he'd see through it. But if all these weeks had taught her anything, it was how to get under his skin.

She took a few steps out front, Link's right arm hidden squarely behind her. "You never showed me that one." Meaningless opening. Let him steer the conversation. He'd take it straight where he most didn't want it to go.

"There were six more statues, princess. Tricks you've never heard of." The lower half of his face cracked into a smile, the first emotion he'd shown and an obvious lie. Baiting her. Don't respond.

"That's all? Thousand year old tricks?"

"I prefer to think of them as 'tried and true.'"

"Now, whatever happened to creativity?"

The smile darkened, almost a sneer. "Oh, I wouldn't worry. I've had all the time in the world to be 'creative'."

There. That was it. A tap on her lower back- Link's signal that the lantern was lit, but she couldn't retreat now. She remembered the demon he had become- animal, brutal, insane, but unfocused. And she could bring him back to that point again if she just let him lead the way.

"So you've said. I imagine there wasn't much else to do, all those centuries, locked up. How many copies of me did you conjure up and kill, exactly?"

"Thousands." He laughed. She knew it was deliberate. She knew he meant it to frighten her. It did.

Link tapped her again, more insistently. But she was too close, couldn't give up. Her heart battered her ribcage and her tongue went dry. Nonetheless, she choked out, "And was it any comfort?"

The air stopped, dead still. She had gone too far. Vaati raised his arm.

A second too late, Link rushed forward. His hand came up to her shoulder, tried to pull her behind him, as though that would help. When the blast of air hit her back, it took her feet out from under her. His hand slid down her shoulder, her elbow, caught on her forearm.

The force of the air nearly pulled the shoulders from both their sockets and shoved them violently towards the mage in front of them. She landed splayed on her side, one arm free, extended out towards her shield.

Goddesses only knew how it had survived.

Link lay partly on top of her legs, groaning quietly. His bow had snapped, the wood impaled through his calf. Zelda had to swallow hard. She had heard him scream before, but never this weak moaning, sounding so close to death. But, by whatever miracle, his lantern was still lit, the tiniest tendril of smoke rising out of it.

Vaati raised another hand. The smoke shifted.

She swore the clash of his wind and her shield raised sparks. It was just light enough to blind them both momentarily. She blinked hard, clearing the flares from the vision, just in time to see the smoke waver again.

Another clash. And another. Shift, sparks. Shift, sparks. She lost track of the blows. She lost track of everything except that thin trail of smoke and his face, looming ever closer.

And yet, not a single blow got through. For this moment alone, they were evenly matched. His mouth was hanging open, while his eyes squinted just a little. His movements were getting bigger. He swung his arm back and forth as though he were slashing with a knife. The madness began to grow in his eyes. And against her better judgment, Zelda tried again.

"What are you going to do if you're put back? Going to fall back on old habits?"

He took a step towards her. "I think you'll find circumstances might be different next time."

"So you think there'll be a next time? Already resigned to that, are you?" Zelda twisted her face into a smirk. It felt unnatural on her skin. "Although, maybe that's good for you. Given your track record, anything else would be a delusion."

Her smirk widened even though her shoulder ached and her magic was fading and the words tasted like chalk in her mouth. Yet, even as she said them, they felt familiar somehow. Wrong, but familiar. Surprisingly, she found herself fighting the urge to laugh.

He took another step forward. Then another. Zelda watched the smoke from the corner of her eye, waiting for the tell-tale shift. It didn't come.

Had he noticed the smoke? Had he seen through their plan already? Were they blind once more? Zelda's breath caught in her throat. Instinctively, she raised her shield up in front of her face, to cover as much of her upper body as she could. However, this turned out to be a mistake, which she realized when she felt his hand grab her ankle and pull.

She fell backwards, cracking her head on the stone floor as she was dragged unceremoniously under her shield and over the last three feet between them. Her vision went dark for a second and all she could hear was Link shouting something incomprehensible from over her shoulder.

And then he was there, over her. Inches away from her face, the meat of his arm pressed against her throat, pressing down just a little too lightly to kill. For a moment, she thought he had lost his mind with fury, let the demon out. But, no. He wasn't strong enough to drag her physically. Which meant he was still using magic to augment his own strength. Which meant the strategist was still in control, although buried deeper than usual.

Slowly, she stretched out another smile. "Well, isn't this familiar," she choked out. "But that's to be expected isn't it." It was too difficult to laugh. She tried anyway, managing a cough. "You're a creature of habit. No matter what you do, you always come back to the same place, don't you?"

"I could say the same thing about you."

"But with one slight difference. I always win."

She braced herself for retaliation, but it didn't come. Instead, she heard only a strangled gasp, as his eyes snapped wide open and his arm shuddered.

It wasn't until she felt something hot dripping on her that she thought to look down.

The blade had slid just under his ribs.

Slowly she turned her head to look at her friend, looking hideously pale, almost sick. He trembled as he crawled closer, dragging his injured leg, in order to push the sword a little deeper. His hand fumbled on the bloody hilt as he tried unsuccessfully to get the leverage to twist it.

Vaati was breathing heavily now, staring at the hole in his stomach. The sneer had faded from his face, and he was left, looking slack jawed and almost confused. For a second, Zelda's breath caught in her throat, and she dared to hope that this would be the end.

Then something threw her back, hard. Her back scraped against the ground, digging dirt and grit into already painful cuts. Behind her, there was a crash as Link hit the ground again. There was another scream. Zelda wasn't sure which one of them had done it.

Then came another clash, the sound of the sword dropping to the ground. When at last she managed to sit up, she saw Vaati standing, the sword still vibrating at his feet. The trickle of blood from his stomach had turned to a steady flow.

His entire body trembled and his face flickered back and forth between a scowl and a grimace. He stared at her.

She stared back. Licked her lips. Smiled.

"I must say, after everything you'd said, I would have thought this would be harder."

The noise he made in response could best be described as a bellow and suddenly, it occurred to her why her words felt so familiar.

She sounded exactly like him.

And then she understood, exactly what a fool he was.

She struggled to her feet, never once breaking eye contact, and if the scuffles from over her shoulder were any indication, Link was trying to stand himself, or at least to kneel.

"Oh, but it's understandable. It's been so very long, it's only natural to lose your edge. But I wouldn't worry, I'm sure you can still handle all of your imaginary friends just fine. And it must be nice for you, to be able to pretend to be the best at something."

He was shaking more and more now. She was all but sure his legs should be giving out by now. Instead, his tremors just grew faster and faster. And faster still until the edges of his body began to blur.

Zelda swallowed, ignoring the tang of blood on her tongue.

Something was very, very wrong.

The winds grew stronger and stronger, whipping outwards and forcing her back to her knees and making her squint her eyes against the rising dust.

Something dark grew at the edge of her vision, and shadow fell over the tower. When the roar of the wind finally died, all she could hear was the ominous noise of wings. She raised her eyes.

The monster in the blade, it seemed, was not a myth. The creature hovering before her was massive and black and like no living being she had ever seen. Its wings were wide and membranous, stretched so thin they were just barely translucent. But they still seemed too small for the round body, which was covered in something dark, neither fur nor skin nor scales. But worst of all, was its single eye, unnaturally large and staring at her.

It was only hovering ten or fifteen feet about the ground, but it was still far, far too high for them to reach.

She glanced surreptitiously over her shoulder at Link's progress. He had worked his way into an uncomfortable kneeling posture, with his good leg in front. Although he had managed to wrench the remains of his bow loose from the muscles of his calf, it seemed he would not be able to stand any time soon.

But that was the least of their problems, she realized. Because the sword was still lying on the ground not far from where Vaati had dropped it. Way too far for Link to reach, but not so very far at all for a massive winged creature. The winds picked up again, dragging the sword left a few inches, then right.

It seemed the beast had forgotten the sword was there, or else it was so far beyond rational thought to remember it even existed. That was a mercy, she supposed, but that didn't mean it couldn't knock it over the edge of the tower anyway. Goddesses, if that sword fell…

She could try a distraction, maybe, but words would be useless now. No, there was only one thing to do and that was run.

She leapt back to her feet, and ran, bent double, head down, anticipating a blow. At last, with the sword only a few feet ahead of her, she flung herself down, hand stretched toward the hilt. Her fingers had just touched it, curled over the leather, when the air took her feet out from under her.

She and the sword were flung, twisting and flailing, closer and closer to the edge of the tower. What she could make out of the sky and the ground rolled around her and blended together. Finally, her momentum steadied just a little and she caught one solid glimpse of the drop beneath her.

A scream tore from her mouth. Then it was cut short when something punched into the left side of her stomach, knocking the air from lungs and pushing her back onto solid ground. Her neck cracked with the whiplash and she struggled to try and get a deep breath again, as she reassessed her surroundings.

It was her shield that had saved her, she realized. The little golden ball was still there, hovering dutifully where she had left it.

And the sword was still in her hand. She had a few slashes from her tumble, but nothing more than skin deep. Nothing that would kill her.

Something that was not quite a sob or a laugh squeaked out of her, and she addressed the golden sphere in front of her. "Thank you," she whispered, smiling stupidly.

It was only then that she realized that Link was calling, no, screaming her name. She pivoted back towards the battlefield to reassure him that she was alright, when the creature roared again and spun about to face her, poised to charge.

With her back pressed against her shield, there was nowhere to run. A step to either side and she was sure to be knocked off the edge. But if she didn't move, she would be crushed.

Its wings flapped, and it started to move towards her.

The force of an explosion knocked her head back against her shield and brought spots to her vision. The creature was screaming, and flapping its wings wildly, sinking a few feet towards the ground.

Once she had blinked the spots free, she saw Link light another bomb and lob it wildly with all his strength towards the monster. This one fell short by a few feet, but Zelda could see the fires through the holes left in the creature's wings from the shrapnel of the first explosion.

Made sense, she thought. It couldn't be that hard to tear them, they were so thin after all.

Her breath caught. That was it.

"Link," she shouted. "A bomb. Roll me a bomb!"

He didn't seem to understand her intent, but he fished another bomb out of his pocket. He hesitated. "Last one," he shouted back.

"I promise I'll make it count. Please!"

He bit his lip in indecision. The creature's screams quieted and its flying became more regular again. It turned its attention towards Link. He made up his mind. He rolled the bomb.

It bounced across the surface of the roof. The aim was a little off, but Zelda lunged for it, catching it with the tips of her fingers. Hurriedly, she brought her shield in front of her.

Thankfully, it seemed the creature was taking a second to appraise his enemies before attacking. That could mean the demon in the blade was fading and the old Vaati was back in charge, but it wouldn't matter. She only needed seconds.

With a burst of effort, she changed the direction of her shield to inward facing. She was far too tired for that. The new shield was weaker, barely holding together. But it didn't have to be strong. In fact, she smiled, it was probably better if it wasn't.

She lit the bomb, and pushed it inside.

The demon made up its mind and turned towards Link,

With a broken scream, she forced her shield forward, into the air, barreling straight toward the monster's right wing, the more damaged of the two. The bomb exploded on impact, ripping what remained of her shield to pieces.

"Good-bye," she whispered sadly to herself. She already knew that she wouldn't have the strength to summon another one.

But, for the moment, it seemed like it was alright. The shrapnel had poured loose, tearing a dozen or more holes in the wing. The creature was struggling to stay aloft, but it was failing. Spiraling faster and faster towards the ground.

Zelda was already up and running, sword clenched tightly in her hands. She reached Link just as the demon crashed to the ground behind her. The wind had stopped completely, and Link got himself to his feet, balancing as best he could on his good leg. She hurried to support him, and to force the sword into his left hand.

"Your turn," she whispered, chancing a hopeful smile, which he barely managed to return. He readjusted his grip and raised his head up a little. And despite the injuries, the blood, the bruises, and the swelling, for a second he did stand like the hero of legend.

She thought sadly, it seemed prophecy existed for a reason.

Together, they hobbled the few steps towards the fallen monster, writhing in pain on the ground.

He stabbed. Once to slice left wing to tatters. Once in the body. One slash across that monstrous eye.

The black surface of the monster's body rippled and bubbled. The blackness bunched up suddenly, creating a dark mass over the eye. Then, just as quickly, the shadows shot outward. The pair shivered as they felt the shadows crawl over them, cold to the touch. They blocked their vision for a second, before clearing off, gliding over the surface of the roof before dissipating in the bright sunlight.

When they looked at the ground again, they saw that the creature had once more shifted forms. It was the Vaati she had grown used to, that much was obvious. But beneath the all the blood and the burns, with his clothes all but destroyed, teeth knocked loose, and one eye completely gone, panting and gasping on the ground, he didn't seem like the same person at all.

Link hesitated before the final blow. It seemed somehow different to attack this pathetic, dying creature. Wrong. Cruel.

Vaati lolled his head to the side, seemingly without the strength to lift it. With his one remaining eye, he looked straight at Zelda, and Zelda saw.

After so much time together, his meaning was unmistakable.

You need me, he reminded her. What are you going to do about that?

Link's hand shook, barely holding the sword steady at his neck, but making no move to attack. Vaati moved his hand just an inch, maybe a harmless gesture, maybe not.

So, Zelda made her decision. She grabbed a hold of Link's wrist with both hands and pushed.

The sword slid smoothly through the throat, and lodged in his spine with a sickening crunch.

The noise of wind came back, like the roar of one of his storms, and yet Zelda could feel no breeze at all.

The sword began to glow so bright it stabbed their eyes, and heated up until Link was forced to drop it. But it didn't fall. It stayed precisely where it was, getting brighter and hotter and louder, until both Link and Zelda dropped to the ground, eyes shut and hands over ears, searching for relief.

Then it was over as soon as it had begun. The blade dropped to the ground, cold and quiet, indistinguishable from normal steel.

It would almost have seemed as though nothing had happened at all, except that, when they sat up and looked around, Vaati was nowhere to be seen. For a few tense minutes, they waited for some sign that it was a trick or that something had gone wrong. None came.

At long last, their breathing slowed down, and they dared to look each other in the eye. Zelda thought that, after all the injuries and lumps, Link looked almost more like a Moblin than a human. And she knew that she must look even worse. But there was no mistaking the relief in either of their eyes.

He smiled at her, a trickle of blood dripping out through chipped teeth, and down from a smashed nose. In that moment, she thought it was the most perfect thing she had even seen.

She gave up her efforts to sit and allowed herself to collapse to the ground. Even the hard rock felt good against her scalp.

The sobs bubbled up on their own. They began in her chest, and worked their way out. In moments, she was crying harder than she could remember crying in her life. Whether from fear, or relief, or joy, or pain, she wasn't sure and it didn't matter anyway. She didn't give a damn about the snot or the spit or anything at all, really.

It was over. It was over, and their injuries would heal. And once they did, it would still be over.

Her hand had fallen on Link's chest, and she could feel as he was wracked with sobs of his own. She wanted to move closer, to hug him, and cry with him. But he was so far away and the ground was so comfortable.

They would have to move soon. They have to find makeshift bandages, and try to put themselves back together long enough to make it back to the kingdom. But for a just moment, it was good enough, she decided. Better than that, it was perfect. Just a moment.

Unfortunately, she was not granted that whole moment. The pain of the sword seized her, as always, without warning. She arched her back and screamed.

In all honesty, it was a mercy that she lost consciousness so fast.

She awoke to the sounds of tramping feet and strange voices.

That wasn't right. There should only have been the two of them there. But then who was speaking?

She managed to wrench her eyes open, and tried unsuccessfully to sit up. As she was working up her nerve to try again, a hand came down lightly on her shoulder. She knew that hand.

"Link," she asked, "are you alright?" His forehead came down to rest against her shoulder. The moisture from a few of his tears soaked through the cloth. Her own tears began anew, but she smiled anyway. That was as good as a yes in his language.

"I'm fine," she answered in response to his unasked question.

"Princess!" another voice shouted. It sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place it until another figure dropped to his knees beside her and an old familiar face appeared.

"Frederic?" That was definitely strange. Frederic Holloway, her childhood friend, the guard who worked night shifts on the west side of the Hyrule castle was there, in the palace in the sky. "Why?"

She had meant to phrase her question more politely, but that was about the most she could handle at that point. Fortunately, Frederic understood.

"We're the exploratory force. This tower, here, just sort of appeared, so we rushed to investigate. There should be a larger force coming soon, once the first scout makes it back."

Oh, she thought. Of course the military would respond. After all, as far as they were concerned, she had just vanished completely in the middle of a terrible crisis. And spontaneous towers would probably be cause for investigation regardless.

There would be quite a mess to clean up when she got back to the castle. But maybe, the guards finding her here, injured, with Link, she might be able to twist that to her advantage. Oh well, that could wait.

First she'd have to deal with her injuries, and Link's, and get the exploratory force back in control. It was probably best if they didn't go poking around the palace on their own. There might still be protective enchantments about that the Cloud hadn't absorbed, or maybe some that Vaati had placed there recently.

But afterwards, maybe the mages would be interested in investigating. There was probably old magic worth rediscovering up here, if they could. If Vaati did get loose again, and he would, eventually, then future generations would need better tools to fight him.

And after that, she'd still have to deal with all the old problems that had been problems even before the Cloud.

Damn, she was hungry. And she was giving herself a headache.

But nothing for it. There was work to do. "Frederic, get your team back together. We should head back to the palace as soon as it's safe to move. Did you send the scout to get a healer?"

"Yes, Princess."

"Good, then we wait here for him to arrive, but I want to be ready to go once they do. Get everyone together, and try not to touch anything. I don't know what's safe and what isn't."

"Yes, of course." Frederic stood to leave.

Link's hand tightened on her shoulder. She understood his message, whether he meant her to or not.

He wanted a moment to talk. But of course, she realized, he would never say anything about it.

"Actually, Frederic. Could you give us a moment? Gather the team in the palace proper."

"Yes, Princess." He made his way to the makeshift rope ladder connecting the tower with the main palace.

Left alone with Link, she finally took a moment to breathe. It was then that she noticed for the first time the bandages wrapped around her arms and legs.

"Did you?"

He nodded simply. His own limbs were wrapped, too.

"Where did you get bandages?"

His voice was quiet when he answered, humble maybe, or else just tired. "I stashed my pack inside the tower. I figured I wouldn't need it during the fight."

She turned her head to look at the floor where he pointed. A stone trap door she hadn't noticed before was lying open, exposing the tower's interior. She imagined how it must have been. He would have been bleeding, had to crawl his way across the roof and lift something heavier than she could even when she was well. Then crawling back to bandage her.

A thank you didn't seem like enough.

But he understood anyway. He always did.

"Vaati's dead," he told her.

"No, he isn't. This building would crumble if he was."

There was silence, while they each worked up their courage.

"Zelda, what happened?"

"Since we separated?"

"No. Why did you scream?"

"It's… well, it's a…" She didn't know why she didn't want to tell him. He wouldn't demand it of her. He would just sit and wait and watch her until she gave in, but he wouldn't push her. "It's a consequence of the spell that let me into the sword."

Once the first words came out of her mouth, the others started pouring forth and she couldn't stop them. The whole story spilled out.

And when it was over, he just kept watching her, before he finally whispered, "So, because we let you into the sword, now your soul is split. And that hurts you."

"It can be fixed. Vaati could do it. Someone else can surely do it, too. There's work to do first, but I have some time before the symptoms should begin getting more regular. I promise you, I'll find a way to fix it before it's too late."

He frowned, but said nothing.

The voices of the exploratory team rose up from below. They would want to know she was well. And then she would have to go home.

"I will fix it," she promised, more to herself than to him. "I will. It's just, I have to be a ruler, first."

In spite of Zelda's plan to move slowly and methodically through the palace in a few months' time, it only took days for the first scavengers to make their way up there. In this case, it was a somewhat unscrupulous and definitively reckless southern mage and his assistant.

So far, much of what they had seen was useless to them. Either ordinary, non-magical furniture, or else magic far more advanced than theirs and thus utterly unhelpful. But, after a few hours, they had worked their way to the inner sanctums of the place, and begun to get thoroughly discouraged.

"What about this?" the younger boy asked. The mage looked where he gestured.

"What about it?"

"It's strange. Do you think it's important?"

"What is it?"

The assistant glanced at the object in his hands. "I think it's a mirror."

The mage ran his hand over the smooth, unblemished glass surface. There were a few odd markings, but nothing more than that that he could recognize.

"Exactly. It's just a mirror. Leave it be." He turned to leave. "Now come on, let's keep looking.

* * *

><p>Finally! I promised I would finish this, and I did.<p>

Well, it's been over a year. And I'm sorry about that. I was in Japan, and for the first time ever, I had a busy social life. It was terrifying.

Anyway, I've been obsessing over this for months now. I hate action scenes, so this was really hard to write. I didn't want to just copy the boss battle from the game, but there's only so many ways to kill someone. But anyway, it's over! Hooray!

At this point, if I'm being honest, I don't really know what's going to happen or what I'm going to focus on next. A long time ago, I wrote a possible teaser if there was going to be a sequel, which I'll go ahead and include in some kind of epilogue, so if you want, let me know what you think.

And that's about all I have to say. Funny, I thought I'd be more long-winded. Once more, I would like to give massive thanks to everyone who reviewed/followed/made this whole thing possible. In particular, I would like to thank I guess your new screen name is CattyCheeno, for xir consistent support (gender neutral pronouns on the internet- I think I'm officially a college student) and Sheikagal, for still believing something could come of this story all the way in December.

You guys rock.

So, for the last time for this story:

'Till Next Time

Ornamental Reciprocity


	18. Teaser

Alright, here is that teaser/ epilogue thing I promised you guys. Since I already did my big sign-off, I'll keep it short, but here's one last thanks for everything you guys have done.

* * *

><p>There was that infernal uselessness again. It had been bothering Zelda all day, but now it had come back stronger than ever, because right at the moment, she was hungry. Very hungry. There had been so much to take care of when she finally returned to the castle that they hadn't broken for lunch, or dinner. She couldn't even quite recall when she had last eaten, but her best guess was a few days before. Now, it felt very much as though her stomach was attempting to consume itself for sustenance.<p>

But the worst part was that there was any amount of food less than two stories below her. There were people who would cook it for her and people who would bring it to her. If she demanded it, there would be people who would eat beside her and fill the rest of her day with mindless chitchat solely for her amusement. All she had to do was ask.  
>But asking was more than she could handle right now. The very thought of seeing people, talking to people, surrounding herself with people right now was sickening. Which was actually quite problematic, seeing as how being alone right now was driving her out of her mind.<p>

She laughed humorlessly to herself. Amazing. All that time that she spent fighting for her life, for her kingdom. All those days spent desperately fighting off death, and now she couldn't even figure out how to find some dinner without breaking down in tears.

And all this waiting. This waiting was driving her insane.

And it had only been a few minutes.

It was easier during the day. One of the side-effects of her disappearing on her mad scheme, one she had been very aware of and yet put so little thought to for the longest time, was that when she returned she would have a lot to clean up. Especially considering that she had been forced to leave right in the middle of possibly the worst disaster that the country had ever seen.

When the Cloud first began growing in the sky, she remembered, it was like the world had gone silent. As she tried her hardest to rule, she could see as the fear spread from the eyes of one person to the next. The streets quieted and everyone walked quickly from place to place. Laughter seemed blasphemous. The blackness just kept growing, until it blocked out the sun and stars.

She could do nothing from where she was. And it just so happened that the only way to get to where she needed to be was to release on of the most dangerous killers in her nation's history and then, more or less, throw herself and her kingdom at his mercy.

It was not a good plan.

Honestly, the fact that it had worked with even a fifty percent success rate was really something she should be pleased with, she reminded herself. After all, there was a time, only a few days before, when she had been sure her kingdom would burn at the very least.

And yet, here she was. In her own room. On the ground. Beneath a blue and sunlit sky. And Vaati was not. He was safely locked away where he had been kept for hundreds of years. The kingdom was largely unburnt. There had been a few unpleasant... incidents that she had heard of since she returned, but nothing that couldn't be dealt with in due time.  
>Logically, at least percentage wise, this was a success.<p>

If only she had any clue what to do from here.

The day had had been marginally more relaxing than she was expecting, but that wasn't saying much. When she showed up at the door of the palace, with only Link as her escort, naturally there had been an uproar. People threw a fit, demanding explanations. Not that she had been expecting any less, but it had been taxing, moving from one battle to the next. By the time she returned, the story of her disappearance had become so mangled, it would have taken hours to sort it out. Fortunately, someone, she couldn't even remember, had thought to ask if she was injured. That led to a veritable parade of doctors storming the place and insisting on checking every inch of her for potentially life-threatening ailments.  
>It had been embarrassing, beyond belief. One doctor was more than enough. Having four in the room, at the same time, all performing exams that they didn't bother to explain was mortifying. Still, at least they didn't ask questions that she couldn't answer. It was all quite simple. Where did you get this bruise? Does your head hurt? She could tell they deliberately steered clear of asking the hard questions, the questions that an entire kingdom was asking.<p>

Nonetheless, in a weird way, it was remarkably calming. If nothing else, she could parrot with the best of them. The doctor's questions were easy and, more importantly, time consuming. By the time the exams were declared over and her life decidedly safe, the sun was dipping below the horizon.

Someone made the grand decision that further inquiries would be left to the morning and Zelda was sent to her room in a flurry, leaving her feeling unusually like a child sent to bed without supper. Truthfully, it alarmed her a little, to be ordered around like this, when she couldn't even be sure who exactly was making all of these decisions.

She knew, or at least, most of her knew, that now was the time to come sweeping into the castle, shouting orders as she walked. Now was the time to walk back into her position of power, and forcibly oust anyone who dared object. Now was the time, before anyone had a chance to denounce her or accuse her of abandoning her post.

But she had, hadn't she? Well, not really. Everything she had done, she had done for her people, but how it must look. There was so much to explain. There was so much she couldn't explain, that people could never know about.  
>After all, not all of her had made it back.<p>

Zelda lowered her head into her hands and waited for tears. They didn't come. Instead, she just let her legs wobble and her weight drop to the ground in a heap.

There was just so much to do. And she was so tired. And so hungry.

The scream that came out of her mouth surprised her. She hadn't meant to, but, if she was honest with herself, it felt wonderful. And with that, all of her emotions came flooding out. She was sure the screaming could be heard down the halls and throughout the whole castle as she grabbed the nearest object and threw it mercilessly against the wall. It was a book, so it landed with a resounding, unsatisfying thump. But that was just the start.

She stood up and raced to her bookcase before yanking the first book she could lay her hands on. In a fit, she grabbed the pages and pulled, feeling the paper rip in half. Without looking, she threw the shreds in the air, letting them drift down around her like snow. She grabbed another book. And another. And a fourth. Once she started, it was impossible to go back.

The floor was soon blanketed with white and yellow fragments, and Zelda's bare feet danced around through them as she raged. The storm in her room was growing. Soon it wasn't just paper fragments drifting softly. Zelda tore the clothes from her dresser, swinging them madly. When was the last time she had worn a dress? The starched collars, the petticoats. All the lace was so damn useless! She turned one inside out and left it on her bed. She ripped the embroidery out of another with her teeth. What in hell did she need it for anyway?

Finally, she ran to the window, struck by an irrepressible urge to throw a fist through it, if only to watch the glass glint in the fading sunlight as it fell. Without a second thought, she raised her fist back, ready to strike, when a hand caught her arm.

"Link," Zelda acknowledged simply. He nodded once, his face blank. "You're back." He nodded again. Even though silence was very much characteristic of him since they were very young, she shied away from the hardness in his face, a recent addition. "And you're angry."

He dropped her arm and took a long moment to survey the damage she had done to her room. It was far more extensive than she had realized. Absently, he kicked at the bits of paper on the ground, watching them leap into the air and flutter down again. Finally, he nodded once more in acknowledgement.

"Is this where I apologize?" she asked hopefully.

"No," he answered and Zelda flinched at the sound of his voice. It was soft, but then again, she had never heard him raise his voice in her life. Still, when he did speak, his words carried a scary amount of power.

"Why not?"

"I know you're sorry."

She nodded, reluctantly accepting his words. "And that means nothing. I understand." A long paused dragged between them. "I'll try to clean some of this up before someone sees."

She made to bend down and grab at the paper shreds, when she felt his hand on her shoulder again. "For the record, it means everything. It's what's kept me from strangling you."

She smiled a little at what she knew was his best attempt at a joke to lighten the mood. But he was far too sincere for humor. And she was far to wise to be distracted by it.

"If there's a way to fix it- to fix me- I'll find it. But there are other things to take care of first. There's a whole kingdom of people to worry about."

Whatever sympathy he had faded from his face and he bent down silently to help clean.

"You know that," she reminded him, but her words sounded pathetically weak to her own ears. "We both know that."  
>His only response was a gruff grunt that he had heard her.<p>

They cleaned in silence for a while, carefully avoiding bumping into each other or making eye contact. Only when the last bit of paper had been secretly stowed away, did Zelda finally dare to look back at him.

"No more... no more this, I promise," she whispered, gesturing to the remains of what had once been a prized book collection. His shoulders relaxed a little in response. She took that as a cue to continue. "I know you've disagreed with me in the past." She picked her words carefully. "I know you think I'm an idiot for doing some of these things. I can't say I'll stop. But, I promise you, no more crying, no more screaming. I'll be productive, I swear."

He looked over at her face and softened at the way she bit her thumb. She only did that when she was well and truly scared. "I don't mind the tears, or the screaming. It shows that your life means something to you."

His words would have been unkind if she didn't know whole heartedly he didn't mean them that way. Still, she couldn't help the little bit of hurt she felt when he said that. But he was speaking to her, at least, and it wasn't worth it to challenge his words.

"Well, you're here now, so I take it you found it?" He glared a little when she changed the subject, but nonetheless patted his pocket in response. Ever loyal, he had done exactly as she asked, when she asked it. He had gone away only moments after he brought her home, on her word alone. The thought made her want to cry.

Nonetheless, she reached out eagerly for the package and, though he hesitated, he reached into his pocket and handed it to her.

The brass contraption was not much larger than her hand. However, she could tell that it was much beloved. The amount of polish someone had carefully applied to it left the metal shining brightly, even in the dim last vestiges of sunlight. Zelda turned the small telescope over in her hands, inspecting the lenses and the casing, even though she had no idea what she was looking for.

"Thank you," she said at last.

"You want to keep watch his palace," Link answered knowingly, even though she had never told him her plans for the device.

"I do. Just because... just because it seems like it's over, I can't believe it is."

"It's not over," he growled back, with such ferocity that she jumped.

Zelda stared down at the town around the castle, where the few people still outside were quickly preparing for a long, calm night. "It's over for them. I think that's the most important part." He didn't answer, but turned away coldly, so she couldn't see his face. That was alright with her, since her mind was far elsewhere. "I guess that makes it a success. Doesn't it?"

At last she turned away from the window and was surprised to see that he was already over by the door, his hand on the knob.

"Doesn't it?" she asked again.

"You must be tired. Goodnight." He opened the door and prepared to slip outside into the already dark hall.

"Wait!" He froze mid-step. "Could you stay?"

He turned towards her and stepped back into the room, his face disturbingly blank.

"Thank you," she whispered, though he didn't react. Instead, he made his way simply to the corner of the room and sat down on the floor, staring straight ahead. He didn't even acknowledge when she sat beside him, ignoring the rather tempting bed beside her.

In all her years of knowing him, she knew full well that she couldn't elicit a response from him until he wished to give one. He could sit still for hours. When he was younger, she used to tease him about it. He always said he needed the time to think. Not everyone could be as smart as she was.

The memory made her eyes sting and she shut them, leaning against his shoulder, hoping desperately that he would put an arm around her. Honestly, she would have been happy if he had even told her to go away. As long as he acknowledged she was there, really there. The sun had long faded by the time any of them made a move.

It was subtle, but it was enough. Ever so softly, he leaned to the side, lowering his shoulder and letting her head rest more comfortably, and allowing his own head to rest against hers. For a moment, her heart leaped at the gesture, and a soft "thank you" came out of her mouth before she could stop it. She almost cried in relief, until she looked at his face.

His eyes were closed and his breathing was soft and steady. He hadn't meant to move at all. He had fallen asleep. She blinked, unable to quite process what she was feeling. But she didn't move, needing somehow to stay curled against him as he slept. To be alone was too much. To be surrounded by people was impossible. It seemed to her that this unwilling arrangement was the closest thing to kindness she would receive. At the very least, his warmth would be a reminder that she wasn't alone.

And, if she could sleep, then she wouldn't have to worry about it. She could be warm and safe, if only for a few hours when she was unconscious. That, at least, she thought to herself, would be better.

She was wrong.

Sleep was much worse.


End file.
